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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26126284">Triple-Decker Whiplash</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedarune/pseuds/andromedarune'>andromedarune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pocket Monsters: Sword &amp; Shield | Pokemon Sword &amp; Shield Versions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>""""""fun""""", AFAB reader - Freeform, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Finally, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I love them all, I promise sexy-times is coming, Leon is.... uhhh.... well, OOO SEXY FUN TIMES NOW, Raihan is a gentleman, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, also I suck at consistent use of slang, also a bit of Hop/Victor but it's totally innocent, also some steaminess later on, but also can be an asshole, but aren't we all?, but it ain't an OC, everyone's prob ooc but whatever, gym leader reader, let's all be horny bastards together, like holy shit ANGST, might have some intense moments so always read initial notes before reading a chapter, no beta we die like men, piers is a soft boy, reader is a people-pleaser, reader is kind of a hoe, slightly follows gameplay, so please don't yell at me if shit ain't exactly canon, some marnie/bede if you squint, some points are altered for dramatic effect, the slowest of burns, this fic is gonna be the literal death of me, totally not gonna lie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>153,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26126284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedarune/pseuds/andromedarune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You became Motostoke's Fire-Type gym leader in hopes of reigniting the spark in your heart, finding your passion for life once more. But you're starting to think that you're getting a bit more than what you bargained for.</p><p>Or</p><p>In which you manage to fall in love with three very different guys over the course of a very terrible gym challenge season.</p><p> </p><p>SCHEDULE: Lost to the void...</p><p>* Also up on Wattpad, @AndromedaRune !</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dande | Leon/Reader, Kibana | Raihan/Reader, Nezu | Piers (Pokemon)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>893</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Anything But Silent Protagonist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sounds of the crowd cheering caught your attention. A withered sigh escaped your throat as you gripped a little harder at your red shorts. At least you looked good in the fire-type uniform. Not that it really mattered to you, though; that sort of nonsense was always overplayed by the media and the fans. No, there was only really one opinion you cared about right now. Speaking of which…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sensei</span>
  </em>
  <span>, are you really sure about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kabu passed you a curious glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting cold feet on me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that, it’s just… I mean, you’ve been the Motostoke Gym Leader for so many years, now - and a good one, at that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved his hand at your comment, taking slow steps towards you as you hunched over the bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem to be forgetting your training. The end of things may seem a bit daunting at first, but if you walk a little further, you’ll find that it’s really just a new beginning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words seemed to ease the tension in your chest just a little bit. The cheering was getting louder by the minute, reminding you of your impending doom. Kabu let out a soft chuckle, patting you on the shoulder. As you met his eyes, you could see that brewing fire that burned within them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That worried look hardly suits you, Little One. You’ve faced far greater than this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You managed a nod. He was technically right - you’ve gone up against far worse. But this was different. This was people. Cameras, flashing lights, reporters - uhg. What you wouldn’t give to run back all the way back to Hoenn right now. But there really was no turning back. You took a deep breath and exhaled, giving Kabu the best look of determination that you could manage. He grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit. How about we show everyone what Hoennites are really made of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For someone who hated crowds and public events with a fiery passion (no pun intended), you really knew how to work a crowd. For the briefest of moments, you thanked your mother for forcing you through countless pageants (that you always lost in) at an early age. You definitely could walk the walk, and sometimes talk the talk if you managed to keep up your fake confidence. With a clever wave and an energetic smile, the crowd was as good as yours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kabu led you to the center of the field, allowing the two of you to be fitted with your own headsets. Once ready, he looked over at the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s cut right to the chase. As many of you are already aware, I am stepping down from my position as Motostoke’s Gym Leader. But rest assured that I am leaving you all in great hands. Allow me to formally introduce my young apprentice, [Y/n]. Having known and supported her from her birth, I can say with utmost certainty that passionate fire within Galar will not be extinguished under her careful watch. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to take my place; only the best. And just as she will always fight for you, I ask that you always fight for her. As she defends this city, cheer with all the hope you have in your heart. And even if she falters on that final attack, remind her of everything she fought so dearly to honor and uphold. Never forget who it is who protects you, people of Motostoke. And with that said,” he turned to you, a serious expression written all over his face, “I believe a proper battle is in order. Unless you have better plans, [Y/n]?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help but grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And miss my chance to beat down my master in front of a captive audience? I think not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before you both were on opposite ends of the field, the flames of anticipation rising to dangerous levels among the screaming fans. You swear you could hear people cheering your name in earnest within the masses. Even just that little spark was enough to revitalize your core. The announcer began the battle. You threw out your first pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you remembered what it was like to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to admit - it’s been awhile since I’ve seen Kabu this worked up. It’s a shame I probably won’t get to battle him again after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That’s all you got out of this? You can’t be serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon shrugged, leaning back on his couch as his Rotomphone displayed the video call to his left. He would see Raihan completely fixated on his own TV flatscreen, head resting on his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, you win. She’s pretty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than just </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s kinda fitting that she’s the new fire-type gym leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you could say… she’s pretty </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A very stiff silence followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I’m going to sleep, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon hung up, listening to the final ring of Raihan’s words. His friend was joking, of course, so it didn’t bother him all that much. He looked back up to the screen, watching the way you waved to the audience. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Neither of them Dynamaxed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought to himself, stroking his slight beard a bit with his index and thumb. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What will the chairman think?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He let the thought linger a little longer before shutting off the TV. He supposed that he would learn that soon enough.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Don't Always Sass Hot Guys, But When I Do, I'm Always Two Seconds From Crying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shortly after your little “coronation” ceremony, you were bombarded by news reporters and media sources, all dying to know every little detail about you. Even a handful of gym leaders reached out to you with their numbers and league cards, anxious to learn your style and personality and overall just hang out in a friendly manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, that was a week ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here you were, facedown on your bed, headphone blasting your favorite mopey song for quite probably the </span>
  <em>
    <span>billionth</span>
  </em>
  <span> time. Flareon seemed rather content to curl up on your back, rising and falling with the rhythm of your breathing. You really couldn’t say the same for Salazzle and Arcanine, though. You could feel their glares from all the in the kitchen, tails anxiously flicking back and forth as they mentally willed you to do something </span>
  <em>
    <span>other than this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Arcanine even went as far as to let out a little whine, which immediately caught your attention. You groaned, pulling off the retro-style headphones to look over at the two alert pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, we’ve been over this. I’m just waiting for the crowds to die down before we can do our training. The last thing I want is to be talking for three hours straight again to a bunch of randos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Salazzle hissed a bit, seeming unconvinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys know I don’t like crowds,” you tried to reason, pushing yourself up a bit. Flareon didn’t much care for that, apparently, leaping off the bed to join the other two in their moping. Great. Now even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was glaring at you. “You too? Fuckin’ - alright, alright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll go take a shower, then we’ll go out to the Wild Area. Sound fair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three heads shot up, tails wagging excitedly. You felt your eye twitch as they all cheered delightedly in the middle of the kitchen. Having made a promise, you slid off the bed to grab some decent clothes. Galarian fashion (</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s an oxymoron,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you thought to yourself) never exactly suited you, so you opted for a simple dry-fit shirt and some spandex leggings. Good enough. Without anything else to bother you, you made your way to the bathroom for a good wake-up shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once dressed and ready, with your hair styled just the way you like it, you slipped on some running shoes and put all your partners in their pokeballs. Part of you wanted to just keep them there and go back to sleep. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of you said that would be a dick thing to do and shunned you for that idea. You sighed, and decided to follow through with your promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of everything else Galar had to offer you, the Wild Area was the most familiar to you. It was, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Everything about it reminded you of the sparsely populated segments of land in Hoenn - how routes would just go on for miles at a time, how going days without seeing another human being wasn’t as scary as it might be here, how close everyone was to nature and the habitats of wild pokemon. So, it was more than a welcome sight when Kabu-Sensei first brought you here almost three years ago to begin your apprentice training. The nostalgia pricked at the corner of your eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No time for all that right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you shook your head, pulling out your pokeballs. In moments, they were all released, staring back at you with excited cries of joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys ready to get back in the swing of things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you knew anything about Galar, it was that the Wild Areas could be kind of a game of roulette when it comes to battle wild pokemon. Some pokemon might be too weak to really get any experience out of, or they might completely one hit KO your entire team. Luckily, you came prepared with plenty of revives and potions, always managing to make a clever escape if things started getting dicey. You didn’t know exactly how long you were out there, but the sun was setting after the fourth great escape of the day. You offered an oran berry to Flareon as he nuzzled his way into your lap. Salazzle and Arcanine ran about, practicing their speed and agility. You rested your head on your shoulder, content to just watch the jovial scene play before you until you heard a pair of footsteps approaching. You turned around, only to see leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look up a bit more. Okay, that’s a chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You crank your neck up as high as it can lift your head. Sure enough, it’s a human being smiling down at you. Just a very, very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> tall human being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh,” you mutter out, trying to figure out why this person was so familiar. “...Hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, this guy thought that was pretty funny, because he immediately bursts out into laughter. It’s loud enough to send Flareon into the air from surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I didn’t exactly pin you as the soft and silent type. But I guess we all have our alter egos.” He watched as you stood to your feet before extending a hand to you. “I’m Raihan, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, yes, that’s right - you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> recognize him. Even ignoring his status as the dragon-type gym leader in Hammerlocke, this guy was hilariously famous on social media (known mostly for his thirst-trap selfies and recent escapades in searching for a shiny Goomy). If you hadn’t deleted all your social media several years ago, you probably would have seriously considered following him. But mostly for the cute Goomy pics. Definitely just that. And nothing else. Yep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grasp his hand and give your name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how’s life in Galar? I hear it’s a pretty big change from life in Hoenn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve actually been living here for a few years already. It wasn’t as rough of a transition as I thought it’d be,” you shrug. “Galar isn’t as big as Hoenn, so it’s a little harder to get lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Does that happen often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than I’d like to admit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed again, this time a bit more contained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. That’s one more person I’ll have to come save all the time. Don’t you worry though, princess - I know Galar like the back of my hand. Don’t hesitate to ask for my help.” You elected to ignore the whole ‘princess’ thing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He probably calls all the girls that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Before you could say something else, Raihan peered over your shoulder, looking towards your team. “Getting some good training for your first year as gym leader, I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, actually.” Not exactly the truth, but he doesn’t need to know that. “If I wanna keep up Kabu’s legacy as a major gym challenge roadblock, I’ll have to be ready to knock some trainers on their asses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan smirked a bit, putting his hands on his hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone will be excited to challenge you. Something tells me that this is gonna be our most interesting gym challenge yet, so you’d better give it your all. I don’t wanna have to fight any weak trainers because you went easy on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And make you look better in comparison? Nah, rather not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man flicked up an eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooo, sassy. That’s hot.” He gave you a toothy grin. “We should definitely have an exhibition match sometime. I’m sure I could give you a fight that’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave you feeling satisfied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As sassy and stubborn as you could be, you had to admit to one terrible weakness: once embarrassed and flustered, it was difficult to make a recovery. And though you were sure you were practically glowing from the warmth all over you (which, unfortunately, wasn’t from the sun), you managed to shrug your shoulders with a smug expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s some pretty big talk from someone who farms for Goomies on Saturday nights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His jaw dropped. There was no holding back the laughter that bubbled from your throat as he ran a hand across his face.</span>
</p><p><span>“H-hey! They’re cute and cuddly and sweet and are</span> <span>easier to find on Saturday nights for some reason</span><em><span> so don’t even start that</span></em><span>!”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh, yeah, right,” you turn away, recovering slightly from your flustered state. “Because you definitely have better things to do on Saturday nights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan was hunched over from where he stood, glaring with a pouted lip at you. You had a feeling he didn’t really get teased much, judging from this totally childish reaction. Since it probably wouldn’t be happening again, you decided to enjoy it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno - what are you doing Saturday night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How he managed to go from moping child to suave casanova completely evaded you, especially now that he was standing tall again with a hand on your chin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, he’s good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>betrayal</span>
  </em>
  <span> on this poor man’s face. You almost felt bad. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Now that he was completely frozen solid in his state of surprise, you stepped away from him, retreating instead to your pack of curious pokemon. You reclaimed everyone except Arcanine, who knelt down to allow you to pull yourself on top. You managed a wave and a brief farewell before letting Arcanine carry you off towards Motostoke. Raihan hardly moved an inch in the moments before your departure, and even moments afterwards. Finally, he let out a chuckle, resting his arms behind his head as he watched your retreating form from within the foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he muttered under his breath. “You win this round, princess.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah, yes, my debonair dragon boy~ I do love him so~</p><p>Longer chapters are soon coming, so please enjoy my dumb ass slow build. I love hearing back about my terrible writing, so don't be afraid to comment your thoughts (pls be nice though i am soft lol)! </p><p>We'll see how next week goes with posting, might change the schedule a bit so I don't die lmaoo - but if you stick around I do hope you enjoy this wild dumpster fire of a fic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hehe, You Said "Duty"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You hated to admit it, but Galar had kind of grown on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though you missed your home region dearly, the rhythmic and predictable days of Galar were oddly comforting. It was as close to a life of normalcy as you could manage without losing your mind. Back home, being a trainer meant learning to be entirely spontaneous, having to be a specialist in improvising whatever you needed in order to survive. You never really knew if you would battle enough trainers to eat dinner later that night, unless you were good enough to make it to the Battle Frontier, of course. But then, of course, once they reached that level of skill, trainers became lazy. They relied too much on their talent as trainers and not enough on their own creativity, wit, and learned skill. It was hardly a wonder as to why many trainers in so-called “traditional” regions like Kanto and Johto (and to some extent, Hoenn) burned out so easily. You were either on the bottom, or on the top - a survivor or a god. For many, this ruined the appeal of battling, and completely destroyed the magic of being a pokemon trainer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Galar was something, dare you say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>refreshing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Pokemon battling was so ingrained into the society that practically everyone had experience in it to some degree. From what you’ve discovered, kids from ages thirteen to eighteen were damn near </span>
  <em>
    <span>expected</span>
  </em>
  <span> to try out for the annual Gym Challenge, held during the summer months when school wasn’t in session. It wasn’t as disappointing to people here if these trainers washed out of the challenge, unlike how it felt in Hoenn; it seemed to be more or a life lesson or soul-searching experience rather than an actual competition. Some kids would make it their life’s goal to face the champion; others would use it as an easy way to escape home for a little while. Either way, it was a totally unique societal expectation that you were more than intrigued with, all things considered. You sort of wished it had been like this when you were young.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another interesting fun fact about Galarian trainer conventions is that it’s sort of a huge sporting event. While you grew up watching fishing shows and aerial races with your parents, kids in Galar grew up watching the Gym Challenge during their summer vacations. The entire event is completely televised, ranging from formal matches to on-the-street interviews. Gym Leaders were always important people in every region, but here, they were more like political celebrities, in a way, serving as the face and image of their home city. You realized this mostly when you were visited by some Macro Cosmos workers, who came to explain to you some of your more, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>underlying</span>
  </em>
  <span> duties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be working very closely with the mayor of Motostoke,” the worker explained, wearing his shades even within your office in the stadium, “in an effort to ensure the safety of the city as well as promotion of its positive development. You must keep close relations with the civilians, so keeping a healthy public image is vital if you want to make progress. Many people will come to you for assistance; major or minor, you are responsible for helping anyone and everyone who needs it, even if it means going out of your way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worker beside him, a younger looking blonde female, nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This, of course, means you also have some significant authority. You have the power to deputize civilians in the name of public safety, but please regard this power wisely. We’ve had regrettable incidents in the past in which gym leaders gave chaotic civilians too much power and knowledge of small issues, turning them into much bigger problems. You also will be required to keep in close contact with the Motostoke Police Department, and act as both an advisor and an officer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paled a little bit. Kabu mentioned some of this, but now that you were really hearing the nitty-gritty details, you began to wonder what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man cleared his throat. “That all being said, you must also remember to attend the required league meetings. Notifications on when these will be held will usually be sent to you via email. Sometimes, the Chairman will be leading them, but more often than not, it will be led by Miss Oleana. For these, you must present yourself formally; feel free to prepare a report or document of some sort in case issues in your city require major League intervention. On the occasion, there will be Gym Leader meetings led by the gym leaders themselves. There is no set location for these, and responsibility of coordinating them relies entirely on the gym leaders themselves. If you have any questions about these, feel free to ask your fellow gym leaders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And one final thing,” the woman seemed to sigh a bit as she spoke, but continued on, “Please remember that your public image is vital when it comes to running a smooth challenge season. If you so choose to keep your public persona separate from your everyday self, please do so accordingly. But if you choose to have, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate </span>
  </em>
  <span>relationships with other league members or the likes, please keep things as quiet as possible. We ask that you maintain a professional image and not to mix personal pleasures with business. Do you have any questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that definitely came out of left field</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you swallowed down the comment. But all things considered, it was a good thing to note. Last thing anyone needed was a scandal. So, you told them that you couldn’t think of any questions, and they handed you a small envelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then if that’s everything, here is your business information and keys to the stadium, along with several contacts to league members. The first League meeting will be next Monday at noon on the dot, over in Rose Tower. We ask that you arrive a few minutes earlier so that the meeting can begin precisely at noon. Chairman Rose and Miss Oleana will be going over the schematics for this year’s gym challenge and what to expect. And with that, we’ll take our leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two MC workers then promptly turned on their heels and walked out of the little office, careful to shut the door behind them as they exited the building. You glanced down at the sealed envelope in your hands, admiring the fancy red wax seal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then. Definitely different than how it was in Hoenn. But it ain’t bad, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You peeled open the envelope, pulling out the shiny silver master key to immediately hook onto your own lanyard of keys. You then pulled out the document, skimming over the list of names and their contact info. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Better save all this junk now, before I forget</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, you have everyone’s contact info saved onto your phone. It makes you feel some sort of way about having so many awesome people available at the tip of your thumb. It seemed like just yesterday you were begrudgingly eating spam </span>
  <em>
    <span>musubi</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Littleroot Town, only to end up in the spotlight of a faraway region. If only your middle school bullies could see you now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About twenty minutes into training in the stadium, you called it. Galar was nowhere near as hot as it was in Hoenn, and yet here you were, sweating like a whore in church. The heat of the metallic stadium was definitely to blame - the damn thing was basically a giant toaster oven. You had turf sticking to you in places turf </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely should not be</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and your uniform was practically glued to your face. You briefly thought about rolling down your black thigh-high socks to try and cool down, but opted for eternal suffering because you felt too cute in them to destroy the look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arceus, this is like band camp all over again,” you groaned, slumping into the turf as your tired pokemon silently agreed beside you. “And they do all this nonsense in the summer. It’s barely even May and I’m exhausted!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another hum of pokemon approval. You were content to let yourself become a baked potato in the hot stadium heat when the distant chirps of a pokemon caught your attention. You opened your eyes, scanning the sky, only to turn and see Raihan already landing down towards the end of the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost had a heart attack for a second,” he called out, sliding down from his Flygon. “I saw you laying down and thought you might’ve died or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, just suffering,” you say the words before thinking, and pause to curse yourself out. Raihan snickers regardless, approaching you with his hands in his hoodie pockets. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How the frick is he wearing that thing right now?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a mood. I’m guessing you got the big </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Don’t let the people know you fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ discussion today, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The laughter slipped out of you. It definitely felt strange to hear esteemed gym leaders cursing, but you weren’t really against it. Part of you wondered if the champion himself had a potty mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. That poor lady looked like she needed a drink after the whole thing, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a thing. Apparently, scandals like that used to happen left and right back in the early days of the gym challenge, but Rose’s administration cut that shit out real fast. It’s been child-friendly sugary gum drops ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense. The last thing the league needs is a bunch of kids finding out their idol has, like, a lactation kink or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or is into extreme watersports.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or non-ironically watches tentacle hentai from the mid-90’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Raihan laugh, the loud booming one that catches everyone off-guard. He leaned forward, holding his sides as he struggled to contain himself before passing a mischievous glance towards you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’d be kinda bad, wouldn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh in kind. Eventually, you call in your pokemon to hide away in the shade of the lobby, which was refreshingly cool. Another perk of Galar: the air conditioning worked </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautifully</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Leagues better than your second-hand water cooler back home. You slumped against a bench, pulling out a couple water bottles from your bag and offering one to Raihan. He politely accepted and immediately downed half the bottle in one go before turning back to you with an eager smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t realize you’d be so chill. To be honest, I was kinda worried you’d be a straight-edge like Kabu, or super innocent like Milo. Glad to have another perverted mind among our ranks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cue the situational irony,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you laughed internally to yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m normally not this terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so what - you’re saying that my mere presence just pulls the dirty thoughts out of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cue more situational irony - wait, is it irony if you lie?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You try to think, but you couldn’t keep a straight face after seeing that look of total disbelief in Raihan’s face. You swear - it’s like this guy has never been rejected before. But now that you think about it, he probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>hasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> been rejected before, not even jokingly. I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit man</span>
  </em>
  <span> - he’s fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, okay,” he tried to laugh it off, shaking his head. “That was uncalled for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The situation called for it. One must also seize an opportunity when it presents itself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately Raihan is back in his element, smirking deviously down at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, trust me - I know lots about taking opportunities. Keep this up and I might start to think that you’re teasing me on purpose. You trying to rile me up, princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My prowess as a trainer is only seconded by my talents as an asshole,” you proudly say, standing to your feet to dispose of both of your now empty water bottles. “Interpret my words as you may, but don’t blame me if you get burned in the pursuit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan seemed genuinely intrigued at your words. To be honest, you were surprised you even managed to say any of that. All of his cool confidence just washed over your entire person, making these sort of words almost second-nature just by his presence. </span>
</p><p><span>“Oh, trust me, I’m not afraid of a little fire. I’d say that the pain makes it all the more delicious.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>You shrug. “It’s all fun and games ‘til you get hit with a good ol’ Fire Spin that lasts all of five turns...” you leer in a bit, watching him bite his lip in anticipation of your words, “...and then just before you faint, you’ll realize that the battle was mine </span><em><span>long</span></em><span> before you even thought to challenge me.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Wow, okay, that was a loaded line. But the reaction that it drew out of the dragon tamer was down-right </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You almost feared for your safety with the amount of mental undressing this man was doing right before your eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, you’re good,” he spoke in startlingly low tones, voice barely above a whisper. He sounded too much like some villian from a horror movie. “Now I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanna battle you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite those seemingly innocent words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. It was beginning to feel like quite the tango between you two, constantly moving in such ways that forced bigger and bolder movements from the other. Never quite meeting in the middle, always just a breath out of reach. You began to wonder if he was assuming that you were interested in him (not that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, exactly). You then promptly began to worry that he was interested in </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> (not that that was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing, exactly). Though you’d never admit it out loud, just the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>presence</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this guy made you weak in the knees. Shit, you’d probably faint if it so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>touched</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Did you really want him thinking you were braver than you really were?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you could make a decision, Raihan’s Rotomphone buzzed to life, springing out from his pocket and into his field of vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” he sighed, “and just when things were getting interesting. I’ve got some business to take care of back in Hammerlocke, but…” he pushed himself up to his feet, effortlessly gliding over to you and pulling up your chin to meet his intense gaze. “...don’t be afraid to reach out to me if you need anything. Interpret </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> as you will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You managed a nod. He gave you a wink and released you, promptly stuffing his hands in his pockets as he strode out the front doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, thanks for the water, by the way! And try not to suffer </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much out there, princess!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t think of a reply in time. He was gone in seconds, leaving you pathetically flustered in the middle of the stadium lobby.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit-fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 'Champion' is Not A Fucking Adjective, You Illiterate Clown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>How you managed to survive this long is beyond you. But it didn’t seem like you would be surviving much longer, seeing as it was now 11:45 in the morning and you were just barely getting to Wyndon. Thanks to the antics of Salazzle (who was damn near identical to you in terms of assholery), you missed the 9:15 train and had to wait an eternity for the 10:00 train (</span>
  <em>
    <span>why were they so far apart?! What the heck am I paying taxes for?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>). And because it’s damn near a two hour train ride all the way to Wyndon City, you had no other choice but to run. You, in your fancy black pencil skirt, silky red blouse, cropped blazer, and red pumps. For the second time in your life, you thanked your mother for putting you through pageants as a little kid, which gave you the unfortunately useful skill of moving in high heels. You just hoped that the meeting would be mostly sitting, because these definitely were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the kind of shoes to be sprinting in. So, on you ran, slipping through the busy streets as people hardly paid you much attention (you supposed it was because this was a hectic, businessy section of town, considering damn near everyone was dressed in ironed button-ups and reserved black dresses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although you were making surprisingly good progress, you came to the realization that you were definitely going to be late. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a great first impression,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you resisted the urge to groan aloud, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really gonna make Kabu-sensei nice and proud.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden gust of wind nearly sent you barreling into the street just as a group of bicyclists passed by. Judging from the laughter that followed, you knew who it was from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re gonna get in </span>
  <em>
    <span>trouble</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Raihan teased in a childish voice, leering down at you from atop of his Flygon. “Tardy on your first League Meeting, mm-mm, what a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be late too if you keep pestering me,” you picked up your pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want a ride? I think Flygon can carry us both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hard pass,” you said without hesitation. “Me and the sky don’t exactly mix.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re never gonna make it at this rate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you can think up a witty retort, Raihan jumped off his Flygon and snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>RAIHAN PUT ME DOWN!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“As much as I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to watch you run in those shoes, I’d rather not listen to Oleana’s screaming any more than I already have to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he began his mad sprint down the street, politely calling for people to move out of the way. Flygon seemed entirely entertained by the chaos that you both caused, trotting happily behind its trainer as it chirped at you with curious eyes. You tried to keep yourself upright, but the bounce in Raihan’s step was anything but gentle. Hair all in your face, fingers tangling themselves in the fabric of his once neatly ironed blue dress shirt - oh yeah, this was definitely going to be a nightmare. At least the public didn’t really seem too perturbed by all this insanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There goes Gym Leader Raihan again…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least I’m getting my money’s worth, living in this expensive damn city…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Looks like another day in Wyndon…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In hardly any time at all (though it felt like an eternity there on Raihan’s shoulder), you were back on your feet, pulling your hair from your face to see an elegant lobby that sprawled around you. Several Macros Cosmos workers gave you a few nods and waves of acknowledgement before scurrying off to their duties. Raihan gave you a playful wink as he steered you towards the elevator lift. Soon enough, you were pulled inside, nestling yourself discreetly in the corner as Raihan pressed the top floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fourteen</span>
  </em>
  <span>… you paled a bit at that number. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fourteen stories… Fuuuuuck…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked up to see that Raihan was watching you from the side, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossing his chest. You manage a stiff nod as you turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, yeah… I’ll live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to question you further, but apparently decided against it. Light elevator music played in the background, serving only to increase your frustration by the minute. Nothing was more worrisome than pleasantly calming music in a literal box of death that hovered </span>
  <em>
    <span>fourteen fucking stories</span>
  </em>
  <span> above the earth. Great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the elevator doors opened, and you peeled the fuck out. Raihan chuckled behind you, eventually catching up to walk ahead as he guided you down the halls. Several office workers trotted back and forth all around you, some carrying stacks of papers while others were focused on some intense phone calls. If “business” was a physical place, this definitely would be the place. It was sort of strange how you almost blended in the environment around you, with your business attire - too bad you looked a bit too awkward to really fit in with everyone else’s serious expressions. Raihan wasn’t really any better off in blending with the environment, but in a totally different way - being a literal giant with a remarkably calm disposition, he stuck out like a sore thumb here (and that orange headband certainly wasn’t helping - or was that half of a beanie?). Which brought you to a new thought: what the frick was the point of business formal for the meeting? You all were gym leaders, everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were gym leaders, you definitely didn’t look like office workers, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck was the point of it</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now,” Raihan suddenly spun around to face you, placing his hands on two fancy-looking door knobs that belonged to two fancy-looking doors. “I present to you, the literal gates of Hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With flourish, he threw open the doors. You peaked in behind him, carefully scanning the room. But to your surprise, it wasn’t all that terrifying. Sure, some of the most powerful trainers in the region were all sitting in there, but in their stiff business clothes and intern-made coffees in their hands, everyone looked relatively mild. Raihan stepped inside, expertly stealing a free cookie from the little tray left on a nearby table before sliding into a pretty comfy-looking chair at the far end of the long table. He beckoned you closer, obviously watching for you to choose one of the two empty chairs beside him. You didn’t want to take the chair at the furthest end of the table (that certainly would make you feel more important than you actually were), so you took the one to his left, attempting to become one with the furniture. You also took the time to notice that the chair to the left of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> was empty, reserved only by a single black coffee and a simple black leather jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nessa caught your attention from across the table, a soft smile on her face as she slowly stirred what might have been a chai latte.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you managed to get here in one piece. I’m a bit surprised that Raihan hasn’t scared you off, yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I’ve been through worse,” you manage a shy smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful - you might encourage him to try harder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan sent her a playful scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ignore her. She’s just mad ‘cause she doesn’t get a ticket to the Raihan Express.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve never seen a woman roll her eyes harder than Nessa does in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> - you can only </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would ride you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To the right of her, you could see the mild-mannered Milo waving his hands, looking nervously over at Bea and Allister in the front of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could we tone down the adult language a bit? There are children in the room…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Piers isn’t here, so someone’s gotta do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but notice Gordie over by the door laugh at that statement, only to be given a stern glare from Melony. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did I just walk into a sit-com?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The clock struck twelve, and almost immediately, everyone was in their seats. It felt like school, somehow; everyone waiting silently before the teacher would make their routine appearance. You prayed that your makeup was still in-tact, considering how you were sweating profusely only moments prior. You had half the mind to check your face in your phone when the door swung open. Your eyes bolted up, ready to analyze, only to become completely and utterly… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>disturbed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t know much about the highly-esteemed Champion of Galar, now that you thought about it. He was the self-proclaimed unbeatable champion, held the second longest record of time in the Pokemon Trainer Hall of Fame (beaten only by Champion Red of the Kanto region, who was nearing twenty-five years, now), had the worst sense of direction, and was debated to be the most (or second most, depending on who you asked) desired person in the damn region. But even with all that in your head, you really found yourself quite understandably surprised with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute fucking mess</span>
  </em>
  <span> that stood before you all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khaki dress pants. Deep red long-sleeved button up. Sparkly gold tie. That pretentious black and gold hat. Hair quite literally everywhere. An unfortunately infectious smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Arceus, my eyes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you desperately willed away the laughter, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is actually the worst thing I’ve ever seen. And I saw the whole Green Lanturn movie.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I late?” he questioned sheepishly, glancing around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When everyone laughed, he realized that the coast was clear. He let out a sigh of relief and walked into the room, notably snatching up three cookies and a cup of water before settling into the other seat beside Raihan. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely made a good call in not sitting there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pass through the Distortion Realm on your way here or what?” Raihan jested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably, I have no idea. I got halfway through Route 10 before I started to get the idea that I was probably going the wrong way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the total </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite direction</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon shrugged, shamelessly stuffing all three cookies in his mouth before attempting to drown it all with water. You briefly wondered if you were on a peyote trip. One groan of disgust from Nessa gave you confirmation that this was, somehow, really happening right now. It seemed as though Leon was preparing to talk with his mouth full, but thankfully the sound of the door opening spared everyone from </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We apologize for the tardy arrival,” Miss Oleana’s stern voice shocked your back straight. “Let us begin the meeting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took her place in the further front corner of the room, right beside a notably dusty projector. In comes Chairman Rose, offering everyone a surprisingly gentle smile as he offered his own greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, everyone. I’m pleased to see that most everyone is present and ready for today’s meeting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced over at the vacant seat beside you. You mentally wished that poor sap good luck. Miss Oleana stepped forward, taking her seemingly rightful place beside the chairman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then - I am sure we all have made ourselves aware of the presence of a new gym leader. But in case you haven’t been introduced, allow her to make herself known.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced towards you, and immediately you feel your hands clam up. Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> - you can flirt back and forth with a painfully hot dude like it’s second nature but </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> your body decides to have a near panic attack? You will your legs to stand up, giving a slight bow out of habit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right. I’m, um, I’m [Y/n], the new fire-type gym leader. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone offers you soft greetings and welcoming smiles. Oleana, though still hauntingly blank-faced, nods in approval as you take your seat once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks back out to the rest of the trainers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please regard her with professionalism and courtesy. Now then, let’s begin this month’s meeting with --”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened, a muttered curse following. Miss Oleana shot a fierce glare over at the interruption, who made himself known as he shut the doors behind him with his heeled shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers,” the woman all but hissed, “if you’re going to be late, could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> do so </span>
  <em>
    <span>quietly</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man hummed in approval, slinking over to the chair beside you and slumping into it, taking a sip from his coffee as he motioned for Oleana to proceed. The woman took a sharp breath of air before regaining her composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Very well</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Today’s meeting, we will be discussing gym leader public presentation and go over a forecasted schematic of this year’s gym challenge. If we keep disruptions to a minimum,” you noticed Piers flipping her off from underneath the table at that comment, “we all will be free to go in a matter of minutes. Any questions before we proceed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone was silent. Thank Arceus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. As I’m sure many of you already know, keeping up a healthy and promotional public image is key in maintaining the prestige of the Galar Gym Challenge. Every year, thousands of applications come in from aspiring young trainers seeking sponsorships. Only the most promising trainers are selected, only to be further weeded out as they progress through the challenge. It is a pivotal time in the lives of many young people in our region, so we must do our part at presenting reputable and reliable images for them to replicate. That is why we’re going to ask each and every one of you to aspire to partake in as many social and or charitable events as you can this year. So long as they are reputable, it doesn’t matter what the cause is. So we implore you all to find things that inspire you, that hold some kind of significance in your hearts enough to bring hope to the hearts of your fellow Galarians. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Along that topic, Chairman Rose is suggesting you all get a bit creative with the stories you weave. The rivalry between the champion and the dragon-type gym leader is a good one, but we can afford to get the crowds a bit more riled up. Please, though, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not get carried away with this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she glared once again at Piers, who continued to flip her off from beneath the table (how you didn’t laugh was nothing short of a miracle). “But we want this year’s ratings to be record-breaking. The narratives of the challengers is good, but more interesting interactions between the gym leaders might promote higher viewership. But if you are going to lie, please do not forget your lie, as it will reduce credibility in other peoples’ stories if you are caught. Are there any questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gordie raised his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are fake feuds free game?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oleana nodded. Gordie silently cheered, passing a cheeky glance towards an unsuspecting Milo. The grass-type specialist shyly chuckled, scratching his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, if I may proceed,” Oleana continued. “This year’s gym challenge might prove to be interesting from a battle point of view. We suspect that we’ll be seeing a higher number of challengers this year. Not only have more sponsorships been given out, but it would seem that a fair number of you have your own personal endorsements. I have confidence that the challengers you have chosen will be exceptional. So be on your guard, as we may be seeing a surge in better, stronger challengers. This year may be promising if you are considering seeking out a successor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few eyes glanced towards the notably quiet older members, namely being Melony and Opal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then, that concludes all that we have to share. Do you have any parting words, Chairman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chairman gave the room a quick glance over. Even as charismatic and relaxed as he seemed, you couldn’t help but feel a slight chill as his eyes briefly meet your own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t say much,” the chairman smiled, “but I will say this: let’s remember the purpose of the Gym Challenge here in Galar. It’s not about your own victory. It’s about giving a good, honest test of courage to the best up-and-coming trainers that our region has to offer. Offer your wisdom, and offer your advice. But don’t confuse compassion for leniency. Only the best of the best deserve a shot against our very own unbeatable champion.” You could see Leon lift his chin a bit higher out of the corner of your eye. “Speaking of, do you have any words of wisdom to share, Leon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon smiled a bit more, pushing himself up to his feet. With the flourish of a 90’s anime character, he struck his signature pose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all true, but I’ll do you all one better - I want every single person in Galar to be the best they can be, so let’s all have a champion time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Champion is as much of an adjective as you are a fashionista, Leon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you smiled to yourself. To your left, Piers let out a poorly concealed snort. You immediately felt all the blood leave your body. Had you really said that out loud? Judging from the slightly amused expression on Leon’s face and the questionably long laughing fit coming from now</span>
  <em>
    <span> both</span>
  </em>
  <span> people sitting beside you, you affirm that you indeed said that out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then,” Oleana cleared her throat, “if that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you are all free to go. Please remember to cause the least amount of damage to Rose Tower while you see yourselves out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you can think to process her words, Miss Oleana and the Chairman were out the door, sharing a stiff conversation as the room broke into laughter all around you. If you weren’t so embarrassed by yourself, you would have joined in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that could have gone a thousand times worse,” Leon finally found the breath to speak after his own moment of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melony covered her mouth delicately with her hand in an attempt to calm her giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“[Y/n] looks as though she’s about to faint, the poor dear!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan drummed the table, still laughing his ass off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That had to be one of the most magical moment of my life! Oleana couldn’t decide who she wanted to kill more - Piers or [Y/n]!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groaned, sinking into your hands. Piers snickered a bit, chugging the rest of his coffee before offering you a half-hearted look of understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, you’ll get used to it. She was bein’ nice today, too - just wait ‘til she gets </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> mad. That’s when it gets fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon shook his head. “It’s anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> fun. But at least it’s not me she’s yelling at.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You damn near resigned yourself to leaping out of one of the many windows that this room had to offer when Raihan tapped your shoulder, offering you a mischievous grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, now that we’re free, how about we grab a bite to eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon perked up from behind Raihan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Food? Sounds brilliant!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan visibly sank, casting a venomous glare at his rival for a brief moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking… Sure, yeah, that’s great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help but grin a bit. Despite your rocky start to the day, things weren’t looking so bad from here on out. You half expected Piers to invite himself into the fray as well considering that look of mild camaraderie during the meeting, but alas - he boned the fuck out, leaving only his empty coffee cup on the table. You turned back to the two men, earning a pair of honest smiles from them as you nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunch with the champion and the top gym leader. How bad could this be?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In Which Raihan Contemplates Double Homicide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, where do you even begin with this stupid comedy-movie bullshit that you’ve somehow gotten yourself into? Allow me to elaborate:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even out of your iconic uniforms, people in this city </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately</span>
  </em>
  <span> recognized the three of you (namely Leon and Raihan). Every step you took was most definitely being recorded </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And while everyone managed to be decent and cordial in regards to your personal space, there was no escaping the eyes and whispers. Raihan and Leon seemed entirely relaxed, having more or less grown up in the spotlight, and even chatted lightheartedly with you and each other (mostly each other). More than enough times, you thought you had seen some sparks of jealousy within the masses. Each one sent your shoulders a little higher, mouth a little tighter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What am I panicking for? It’s not like anything’s really going on, here - they’re just being nice, is all. Being nice to the newbie. Once my newness wears off, they’ll have better things to worry about.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That recurring thought was enough to give you some semblance of confidence, making the walk to lunch at least somewhat manageable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of you is kind of relieved it’s a sandwich joint, and not some super fancy or expensive restaurant. You breathe a sigh of relief as the boys guide you towards the further ends of the eatery. It looked like a few other business people were scattered around the room, so you three didn’t exactly stick out as terribly as you were expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I’m willing to bet that you haven’t been to Wyndon before,” Leon turned to you as you settled into your seat, “so that means you haven’t eaten here before, either. If you like just regular cold sandwiches, this place is the best!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not too picky,” you smile back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods with another blinding grin before passing a glance over to the ordering area, where the sandwiches would undoubtedly be made before your eyes as you made your requests. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brilliant! Why don’t you go first, then? Take your time - we’ve quite literally got all day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded, standing to your feet and meandering over to take a look at the menu. After some awkward requests and payment, you had gained one half-sub of your favorite variety. Everything looked so fresh and delicious; you couldn’t help but get a little giddy looking at something so beautiful. What a work of art, this sandwich. You were sure you would never find a love this pure ever again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a minute to be alone, there?” Raihan interjected. You jumped, nearly dropping your one true love and glared daggers at the snickering male. “Sorry - couldn’t help myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swatted him away, seeking refuge across from Leon at the table, who seemed similarly amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind him - Raihan doesn’t understand the complexities that is a pure-of-heart romance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In today’s world,” you pretended to cast a wistful glance towards your carefully wrapped sandwich, even giving it a tender caress with your finger, “nobody truly understands our love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon laughed, only to stop with a mischievous grin. You never could have prepared yourself for the nightmarish words that would follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I now pronounce you… hus</span>
  <em>
    <span>bread</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>rye</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Oh, dear Arceus, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You visibly cringed, squinting your eyes at him as Raihan groaned in the background. Other people were looking over, seemingly just as disturbed. It seemed like the world was witnessing it’s impending end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. No, you couldn’t let this madman win. Because little did he know, he hardly knew the dark arts with which you were a master of. So, with all the composure of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoujo</span>
  </em>
  <span> protagonist, you lifted your sandwich and gave it a chaste kiss before making subtle eye contact with Leon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, my love, </span>
  <em>
    <span>lettuce</span>
  </em>
  <span> elope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You have never seen a man look so elated. People were shaking their heads, many contemplating their life’s choices. Raihan spun around, pointing at Leon with his sandwich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU!!!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Look what you’ve done - you’ve corrupted her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon leaned back in his seat, passing you a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s total </span>
  <em>
    <span>bologna</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the poor server was desperate to escape this torture. People were packing up their things, hoping to free themselves before it was too late. Raihan gazed down at you. You could have sworn he had tears in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princess, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re stronger than him. Don’t break my heart like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glance between Leon and Raihan, both wearing the two most different expressions ever. This was it - the moment that would decide your ultimate fate. Who you chose would undoubtedly change your life forever. Would you reassure Raihan that you were still worth saving? Or would you be whisked away by the champion himself for the dark pleasures of the evil?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, yes, the choice has never been clearer. You stood to your feet, walking over to Raihan to place your hands on his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raihan,” he seemed genuinely surprised by the tenderness in your voice. “My dear, it was never meant to be.” You passed a brief glance towards Leon, who urged you on. You locked eyes with a terrified Raihan. “I could never </span>
  <em>
    <span>loaf</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sandwich shop was thrown into disarray. Children cried, adults bemoaned their fates - Raihan groaned the world’s longest groan as he sank to his knees, the cacophony that was Leon’s maniacal laughter echoing through the eatery. You could hardly contain your own laughter as well, though Leon was on a totally different plane of existence. He was actually crying, holding onto the table for dear life as he made no effort to cease his laughter. You held onto the wall behind you to keep your own self steady, watching Raihan go through all the five stages of acceptance in a matter of seconds. Never before have you witnessed such rampant destruction of civilization in a matter of moments - and that’s really saying something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Leon finally caught his breath, it felt as though everything magically returned to normal. With his infectious laughter out of the way, law and order returned to the hearts of man, and people went on about their day within the establishment. He straightened out, cleared his throat for a moment and smoothed down his cowlicks as best as he possibly could. It gave you a bit of whiplash, to be honest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m seriously famished, now,” the champion sang out, jumping to his feet to order his own food just as Raihan crawled into his seat, head in his hands. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as he shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And to think that I thought we had something going on between us,” he moaned. “How could you do me dirty like that, princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should know that I will do most things in the name of comedy. And also, still kind of an asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right. Forgot about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, you got the chance to bite into your beloved sandwich. Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arceus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was heavenly! Just the way you like it. Eventually Leon rejoined the two of you, munching down on his own (surprisingly leafy) sandwich. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against your better judgment, you felt yourself relaxing around these two. With Raihan’s calm disposition and Leon’s playful nature, you couldn’t help but feel entirely comfortable around them. There was hardly a need to be on guard - right now, they were just two dorks in fancy clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like you weren’t familiar with the gym leader sort. Far from it; back home, your father was a gym leader, himself, and was a huge part as to why you became a pokemon trainer in the first place. But back in those days, you didn’t really take the time to really get to know the gym leaders. You could hardly even remember any of their names (except your father’s, of course), much less any of their faces. And yet here you were now, in a foreign region having lunch with two of the best trainers on the mainland. You already knew more about these two than you would probably ever know about your own home region’s top trainers, like how Leon apparently holds a terrible love for puns and Raihan takes flirtatious banter to a whole new level. It felt as though you’ve known these guys your whole life, despite it only being your second week here. You knew they didn’t feel the same, but still - the little ember in your heart grew a little more. As you took the final bite of your sandwich, laughed at another one of Raihan’s stories, you allowed yourself to keep this memory somewhere safe in your heart. It reminded you of the joys of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Is it Possible to Dynamax Your Dick? One Wishing Star, Please</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, momentarily stealing your attention away from the practice battle taking place before you. You pulled it out, reading the ID with a small smile before accepting the call, returning your attention back to your three pokemon on the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kabu-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sensei</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s good to hear from you again! How’s your retirement going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Little One. Though, if I’m being honest, I’m a little bored. You can only take hot springs and hiking for so long before things start to get a little repetitive, wouldn’t you agree?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, definitely. But it has to feel nice to finally relax a bit. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t keep going a hundred miles per hour all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled a bit at that. “You may be right about that. I’m definitely not as spry as I was at your age, that’s for sure. But I’m not about to be dragged into a retirement home, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’d be interesting, watching that go down. But I’ll admit; a little fresh air is nice, even for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kabu was silent for a moment, undoubtedly choosing his next words very carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was scared, there. For a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frowned at that. Despite the fiery intensity that blazed before your eyes, none of that passion managed to reach your eyes. At that single phrase, all the mock energy you had was sucked out of you, forcing you to slouch a bit as you gazed longingly at the battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m trying, I really am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you are. And we all are so very proud of you, Little One. Even after everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to make it all this way. I just hope that one day you won’t have to try so hard to be genuine about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know he wasn’t meaning to hurt your feelings, but you couldn’t help but feel a little bitter. As always, Kabu saw right through your facade, cutting down the mask you wore like it was made of paper. You tried in vain to hide the sigh that slipped passed your lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yeah, me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line was silent for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In lighter news, I am excited to see what sort of person you’ll be in the Galarian-style Gym Challenge. It is much more different than how things are done in Hoenn, I’m sure you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah - though I’m really not sure Dynamaxing is gonna work. I mean, I still haven’t figured out my issue with Mega Evolution, and when I tried bringing it up with the chairman’s secretary this morning, it didn’t really seem like ‘no’ was an option.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dynamax is ingrained very tightly to Galarian culture and society. It’s a very powerful tool that, if used correctly, can be a sure-fire way to a win. However, if performed improperly, Dynamax has the power to rain damage and destruction over everything it touches. It’s a powerful skill hosted by only the most elite of trainers, and to use it effectively and efficiently is a talent not to be taken lightly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groan a bit. “Is that supposed to inspire me or scare me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit of both. I have confidence that you will surpass this hurdle just as you have all the others. But I suggest you learn all you can about it from Professor Magnolia. Perhaps she can better shed some light on this problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay… I’ll, uh, do that. Thank you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sensei</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Little One. But please, I beg of you - if you must regret anything in your life, regret your </span>
  <em>
    <span>action</span>
  </em>
  <span>, rather than inaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t need to ask him what he means by that. With a gentle goodbye, you end the call, running a hand across your face as you return your eyes to the battle that continues to rage on before you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Professor Magnolia? Yeah, of course I know her. Well, not too much </span>
  <em>
    <span>personally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>of</span>
  </em>
  <span> her. What did you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You play with the cap on your water bottle, avoiding eye contact with Raihan at all means possible. At least until your confidence meter goes up a little more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing much. I, uh… Just don’t really know all that much about Dynamaxing, so I figured that I’d learn all I can before I even think about using it in a battle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s awesome,” Raihan beamed, leaning back against the wall behind you both. “There’s nothing like it in the world. With the power of a fancy rock and a tight bond with your pokemon, they become a million times stronger and even manage new techniques that are only possible in those special conditions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Raihan? That definition could literally describe Mega Evolution </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Z-Moves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well, still. Dynamaxing is special. Your pokemon get mega big and mega kickass - some even change forms! Every time me and Duralulon Dynamax, it’s like the whole world is ours for the taking. You’ll never feel a rush like that anywhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What - wait, don’t tell me… You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>against</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dynamaxing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that - it’s just… I dunno. It’s just one of those things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan stared at you, mouth agape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just one of those - okay, now you’re starting to sound like Piers. Which is worse than you sounding like Leon, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, he doesn’t Dynamax? Like, at all? How does he get away with that? When I said that I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable with it, the chairman’s secretary practically lectured me into next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s Oleana, and that’s also Piers. Those two totally hate each other - they’re polar opposites. Oleana’s always got a stick up her ass. Piers just kinda does his own thing. The only reason he can get away with it all is because he’s a total beast on the battlefield - after me and Leon, of course. Honestly, I kinda wanna battle him one day without Dynamax just to see who’s actually stronger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, now </span>
  </em>
  <span>that’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> confidence</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you think to yourself. If only you had the balls to completely go against Chairman Rose </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> Miss Oleana’s commands to just forget Dynamaxing altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kinda wanna see that, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan laughed, adjusting his beanie (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Headband?! Bandana?! What the fuck is it?!)</span>
  </em>
  <span> briefly before resting his hands on his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s alright. Just don’t go falling for him. That guy’ll rip your pretty little heart to shreds. You’re better off in my hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hand</span>
  </em>
  <span>le me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” he cried out, making you throw your head back in laughter. “You’re not allowed to go falling in love with Leon, either!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously? Do I even need to explain it? That guy wouldn’t know the first steps of courting a lady if it hit him in the face. He’s totally oblivious - I think the only reason he gets laid at all is because everybody just asks him, point blank! It’s the most obnoxious thing ever - he doesn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> try </span>
  <em>
    <span>so very hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you felt the confidence rising up a little bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan leaned in, his eyes baring down into your very soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I do, princess. Unlike those other blokes, I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard worker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think taking twenty selfies a day counts as work, Raihan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back, quite obviously flustered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, selfies are </span>
  <em>
    <span>very important</span>
  </em>
  <span> to my public image! You’ve gotta get the lighting right, make sure your background is decent, have a fitting pose ready - there’s a lot of thought that goes into it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First getting all defensive about the Goomy-hunting, now he’s getting defensive over his selfies. This guy - Arceus, have mercy - he was almost as much of a trainwreck as Leon. And that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. But, at least he was easy to read, which definitely made conversations with him all the more simple and enjoyable. But he didn’t need to know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much</span>
  </em>
  <span> about you, least you end up ruining things with your baggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways,” he finally regained his composure, “if you really wanna get in touch with the professor, then you should ask Leon. He and the professor’s granddaughter were big rivals back during our own gym challenge days, so he should be able to get you in to see her pretty quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’d be great. Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting in touch with Leon was probably the single-most annoying thing you’ve ever done - and that was saying something, considering your shitty ex-boyfriend. Raihan briefly mentioned that finding Leon was always a quest in and of itself, and now you know why. Your calls went straight to voicemail, and your messages remained unread. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the actual FUCK</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was doing this on purpose. As you passed by a public poster displaying his face on the walls of Motostoke, you shook that thought out from your head immediately. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nah, this guy only knows malice when telling a pun. He’s probably just as well-meaning and innocent as Milo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But then, another curious thought popped into your mind. </span>
</p><p><em><span>What if he was the exact opposite?</span></em><span><br/>
</span> <span>Ooo, that’d definitely be a sight to see. The dashing and princely champion of the entire Galar region, secretly being a sadistic and venomous snake who lures his prey with sweet eyes and kind words? You’re pretty sure you’ve read a fanfiction about that. Not that you read Leon fanfiction, ‘cause that’d be weird - but, you know, something along those lines. Yeah.</span></p><p>
  <span>Nearly three hours later, you feel your phone buzz rhythmically in your pocket. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh thank Arceus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sorry - I got caught up with some business. What’s up, mate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry to bug. I just wanted to know if there’s any way you can help me out with something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So long as it’s nothing to do with directions, I’d be more than happy to help!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it be too much to ask if you can get me a meeting with Professor Magnolia? I’m a little… I’ve got some reservations about just jumping into Dynamaxing right away. I’d like to learn more about it before I try it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ace idea! You’ve got nothing to worry about - the entire league works incredibly hard to make Dynamax battles as safe and exciting as they can be. But it’s very admirable of you to want to know more about it. I’ll be honest, though - the science behind Dynamaxing is still mostly theory. Magnolia is the first professor in the region to actually start publicly researching it and analyzing it. So, don’t be deterred if you don’t get the most, ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>comforting</span>
  </em>
  <span> answers - it’s mostly just speculation. But if you want, afterwards, I could run you through a few lessons? Maybe have a little crash course on Dynamaxing in battle? What do you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’d be awesome! I might hold you to that, actually. I definitely will need someone to help me just in case, uh, something happens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry! We haven’t had a serious Dynamax accident in over a decade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? What happened then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon paused, giving out a rather nervous chuckle from the other end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you know, uh... Just an accident. A few riots happened, a change in administration in the league - nothing really to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that sure was comforting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You were about to ask if the riots he mentioned happened the be the same riots that you heard plagued Wyndon (and the rest of Galar, for that matter) several years ago, but he perked back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “But the current league administration has totally revamped the challenge set-up entirely, as well as improved the ways by which competitive Dynamaxing is done! The region is promised a total safe and enjoyable Dynamax experience for everyone! So if it means you’ll give it a shot, I’d love to help get you going. Are you at your stadium, by any chance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. I’ll head over there with Charizard and we’ll make our way down to Wedgehurst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were about to agree when you suddenly paled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charizard. A flying type. As in, he’s flying over here. And plans to fly with you over there. You’ll be flying. As in, thousands of feet in the air, nowhere close to solid ground.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-ah, on second thought - is there any chance we could catch the train?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The train? That’ll take an eternity, mate! What’s wrong - you don’t trust me and Charizard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, it’s not that… I, uh…” you lowered your head a bit. “... I, uh… also have some reservations about flying, too…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon let out a hearty laugh, which didn’t actually embarrass you as much as you thought it would. It was, oddly enough, comforting to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust Charizard with my life. If anyone’s more sure to catch you if you fall, it’s him. Hell, he’d probably save you before saving me. I can assure you - you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With as sweet and genuine as he sounded, you really couldn’t find it in you to argue. So much for all that sassy confidence you had a few hours ago. So, you accept the offer and end the call, opting to wait in mild anxiety as the champion soared through the clouds towards Motostoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, let’s do the math - it’s an hour and forty-five minute train ride from Motostoke to Wyndon. Leon made it here in thirty minutes. So that leaves just one question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>HOW FUCKING FAST IS THAT CHARIZARD?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You knew it had to be dangerously strong, but that speed was unlike anything you’d ever heard of (and you grew up with aerial racing). As he landed, Leon gave you a wide smile as he gave Charizard a hearty pat on the neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you can see, I’ve made it here in one piece. Charizard is an ace flyer, and I consider myself a more than qualified jockey. There’s no safer place in Galar than right up here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charizard nodded just before letting out a small roar of flames. You smiled fondly at the beast, reaching hesitantly out to give him a good neck pat. Oh yes, he seemed to like that very much. Before you could step back, you felt Leon’s hands swoop underneath your arms, effortlessly tugging you into the air before setting you down in front of him. You hardly had time to process what had just happened, let alone decide if you should be embarrassed or not, when he gave Charizard a gentle prod and the three of you took to the skies. Immediately, your arms wrapped around the fire-type’s neck in your panic, face pushed down into his rough scales as you desperately tried to hold onto your lunch. All you could hear was the rushing of wind and Leon’s ever-booming laughter as he wrapped an arm around your waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charizard and I normally like to beat our flight time every time we fly, but it looks like you’d much appreciate an easier ride.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you squeezed out, “I’d like to live, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charizard huffed a small plume of smoke as he settled for a glide. You sighed in relief, giving the creature another neck pat. He definitely appreciated the gesture. Leon leaned over, patting your upper back gently as he took a big breath of air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can see all of Galar from up here. I’d like to think that Galar holds some of the most impressive aerial views in the world, but I suppose I’m a bit biased.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take your word for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t like flying, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like you didn’t like flying. It’s just that, well, the last time you flew…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grimaced. You’d rather not think about that right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more of the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>falling towards an imminent death</span>
  </em>
  <span> part that worries me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me - I won’t let you go.” You tense up a bit at that. You don’t know why, but something about those words with that tone of voice didn’t exactly sit well. It definitely didn’t help with him holding you so tightly. He suddenly chuckled. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> the unbeatable champion, after all! It’s my job to protect everyone in Galar, and that includes you, now, too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minor case of whiplash, but nothing you couldn’t handle. But your apprehension seemed to linger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps twenty minutes later, you finally are planted on solid ground. You cheer and grin and dance - only to see a mildly gruffed Charizard glaring back at you. He huffed as he turned away from your celebration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, buddy,” you cooed, tip-toeing over to him as you gently rubbed his neck. He peeked around, still looking a bit betrayed. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a fear of heights, is all. Nothing wrong with you - you’re the first flying-type I’ve ridden in a few years, so that counts for something, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charizard seemed very pleased at that. He turned to face you, humming a low growl of approval as he nipped at your arms. Leon gasped, shooing the creature away despite your laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charizard, buddy, we talked about this - you can’t just nip people!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wave Leon away, giving the fire-type another good neck rub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. I’ve been around a few dragon-types over the years, so I’m pretty used to the whole nipping thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, Charizard -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t a dragon-type? Yeah, technically he isn’t. But that’s because they used to be way harder to find back in the early days of Kantonian battling, thanks to their previous grudge against humans for hunting them. Kanto didn’t have the dragon-type selection in their initial pokedex database as a result of this - actually, something similar happened with fairy-types, too. Dragon-types didn’t really start gaining battle notoriety until a few decades later with the rise of professional dragon tamers in the Johto and Sinnoh regions. Also doesn’t really help that none of Charizard’s possible movesets can be qualified as dragon-type moves at all. Even though he looks like a dragon-type and behaves like a dragon-type, he really isn’t one at all. Crazy, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were so focused on stroking Charizard that you hardly realized that Leon was staring rather intently at you. A few moments passed before you hesitantly glanced toward him, a confused smile on your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Leon? You… You good there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh!” he visibly blushed (an interestingly brilliant combination, his golden skin and that deep red embarrassment) as he turned away from you to adjust his cap. “Sorry, I just… I, uh… It’s not everyday I get a lesson about my signature pokemon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now you were embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit - I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think that, o-or -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s great! Most of the time, it’s me saying all that stuff, or it’s some kid trying to sound cool. It’s... kinda nice to see that other people have an honest appreciation for Charizard, as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded, relaxing once again under his shy smile. Fully satisfied with the amount of attention he had received, Charizard began to lead the way through Wedgehurst. You felt an immediate different walking with Leon here as compared to walking with him in Wyndon. People were definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>too close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even going as far as to reach out to him just for a chance to graze his skin. All the goo-goo eyes, all the moans of adoration - you weren’t sure if you wanted to throw up or bury yourself in a hole. Nevertheless, Leon was as charming as ever, offering pleasant smiles and cordial waves. He never dwelled too long on one person, it seemed; everyone got a fair amount of attention from the champion, himself. But thanks to the density of the crowd, the sun was pretty low in the sky by the time you reached the Professor’s laboratory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here it is, the lab! Believe it or not, I grew up not too far from here - I used to come here all the time to try and convince the professor’s granddaughter to battle me. It’s almost like a second home to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded as he approached the lovely doors, but squeak a bit in surprise as he completely forgoes knocking and just barges right in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Professor? PROFESSOR!? I’m here with a guest!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You peeked inside from behind the bigger man just in time to see a grumbling older woman with a fancy-looking cane look up from her tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon, dear, will you </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> learn to use the doorbell? Or perhaps </span>
  <em>
    <span>knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled shyly, rubbing the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, professor. I’m here with the new fire-type gym leader - the one I was telling you and Sonia about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You fiddled with your hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He talked about me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes,” the professor nodded, setting down her lovely little tea cup to the table beside her before walking over to inspect you as you further entered the building. It was remarkably elegant, the laboratory; everything had a place, and was bustling with plant life. The distant smell of jasmine wafted through the air. It was definitely something entirely different from Professor Birch’s nightmarishly congested workspace. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, dear. I am Professor Magnolia. If a problem you face is relating to Pokemon, plants, or tea, I can assure you that my knowledge will be worth your time. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled a bit too wide, glancing between her and Leon. Not that you didn’t trust Leon, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, now that you think about it, maybe you don’t trust Leon. At least not completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was nice and cool and fun and playful, and you assumed he wanted to be your friend just as much as Raihan did. But right now, as you glanced at his curious smile, you couldn’t help but realize that there was something strange about him - you couldn’t explain it. Something just a little… </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like looking at a cleverly photoshopped picture. It could be genuine, but it could be entirely fabricated. You cleared your throat in the most polite manner while making eye contact with the champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Leon looked a bit upset for a moment, but recovered quick enough to give you a reassuring smile. “Of course! Is Sonia in her study? I’ll go give her a quick visit while you take care of your business here. I’ll check back on you both in a few!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting another moment, Leon bounced down the hallway much like an energetic child. Professor Magnolia shook her head as she cast him a curious glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That boy. I could study him for millenia and still the source of his many curiosities would evade me. How about I make you some tea and we can discuss whatever it is that you want, hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaand now it's time for me to ruin everything with the non-romantic plot of the story! I do hope y'all stick around for it though - I think I can wrangle this romance enough to make my wacky plot all worthwhile. </p><p>(or if you're the poor sap like me who loves plot, then you're in for a treat, lolol)</p><p>That's it from me! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and shoot me your comments! I'd love to hear 'em~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Is it Possible to Dynamax Your Tits? Hmm, Wait, Actually, Lemme Think About That One....</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before you found yourself staring down into some pecha blossom tea, watching your own reflection ebb and change in the liquid below. Professor Magnolia was remarkably silent, hands on her lap as she gave you the space to process your thoughts. You had long since moved into her living room, the two of you resting on adjacent couches that were remarkably plush and comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was so difficult about this? You’ve explained this before. Then again, it wasn’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy </span>
  </em>
  <span>to explain your situation before; why would it be any easier now? The professor must have seen your internal turmoil, as she placed a gentle hand on your knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, dear, I may not have been that big of a trainer in my youth, but I do know that sometimes, it can be a lifestyle that changes your world entirely, for better or worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look up at her, clearly surprised. She smiled fondly at you. You immediately felt guilty for making her worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s…” you try to say. “...well, it’s not…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me the whole story. I’ve never been good at repairing things that are broken. But I am interested in giving you all the knowledge you need to seek out repairs on your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words are remarkably comforting. A small weight is lifted off your shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right… Um… Well, I, uh… I’m a little iffy about Dynamaxing. It sounds relatively similar to Mega Evolution back in Hoenn, but… well, the last time I did that, something bad happened. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad. I’ve had bad reactions to Mega Evolution ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia seemed intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bad reaction? Does it just not work at all, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grimace. You could hear the cup clicking against the little saucer in your hands. Your hands were trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It starts to work, but… then we both get terrible chest pain, and a serious migraine. Once it got so bad that me and my pokemon had to be admitted to a hospital and pokecenter, respectively. I just can’t risk doing that to my pokemon again, not for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How unique. Tell me, dear - did you speak to anyone back home about this, maybe your regional expert on battle enhancers? Did they tell you anything of worth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t know as much about Mega Evolution when I was going through this as I’m sure they do now, but I did manage to get a brief conversation with Mr. Fuji. He’s the leading expert in it. He said that he didn’t know for certain, but he would guess that my, um… </span>
  <em>
    <span>experience</span>
  </em>
  <span>… would drastically alter my chances in successful battle enhancers like Mega Evolution.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, in short - you physically cannot do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yes, that’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a terrible thing to accept, but you do. That pitiful expression you’re making it staring back up at you from the light pink tea, mocking you in its own pathetic way. Magnolia sighed, raising her hand to adjust her glasses a smidge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing wrong with this, dear. Many people will go their entire lives without battle enhancing experiences, and still become successful trainers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not the problem,” you struggle to keep your voice steady. “I’m expected to use Dynamax benefits for the gym challenge - in a couple months - and I don’t know how to tell people that I can’t do it without feeling like I should just give up entirely! Either I go out there and refuse to use Dynamax and probably get kicked out of the League, or I risk trying it and get somebody or myself seriously hurt. I can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> that again, professor.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling the professor’s unyielding gaze on your person. “The last thing I want is people changing the rules just because I can’t keep up. And I really don’t want everyone knowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can’t do it. They… I don’t want their pity, or their advice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be honest - even if you did tell the chairman or the league about your problem, I have little faith that they will show compassion for you, in the end. Those trainers are some kind, gentle, incredible people, but at the end of the day, they are still competitors with each other. All of them will look for the first sign of weakness in order to seize victory. Even…” she glanced towards the door, “... Yes, even Leon refuses to show any mercy. You were wise to keep this knowledge from him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hate that fact. You really, really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hate that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been a trainer for a long time - I know the game,” you say, not meaning to sound as bitter as you do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia nods. “Of course. However, it would appear as though I have very little information on Dynamaxing to ease most of your concerns. I’m afraid that I’m not well versed in the practice of Mega Evolution, but it seems to have similar rudimentary components to Dynamax. Even so, please monitor your health, as well as the health of the pokemon you aim to Dynamax during your battles. Ensure that the relationship between the two of you is strong and pure. Battle enhancers tend to rely on the emotional aspects of pokemon training and battling. A mere miscommunication may very well be the underlying cause for such an intense reaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You finish off your tea and thank the professor. She nods and gives you a soft pat on the head before hobbling off into the kitchen to deal with her dishes. Just in time, you hear a burst of laughter coming from down one of the hallways. In comes Leon, heaving his obnoxiously loud laugh as a stylish red-head waltzed in beside him. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>, this girl looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>fabulous</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It took all of your power not to immediately compliment her hair and skin and clothes and eyes and… shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She was definitely up there in your lady crushes, right up with Nessa and Champion Cynthia of the Sinnoh region (like, seriously, that lady was probably the coolest and hottest chick in the history of </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>). Once they simmered down, they took notice of you standing awkwardly in the middle of the lab and immediately jumped up towards you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“[Y/n],” Leon smiled, gesturing dramatically to the woman, “this is Sonia, the professor’s granddaughter. She’s a mad genius, and, coincidentally, an old friend of mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’ve been dying to meet the girl who inspired Leon to send me, like, fifty sandwich puns in a row at midnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he was just trying to get a </span>
  <em>
    <span>rye</span>
  </em>
  <span>-z out of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon never looked more proud, while Sonia looked visibly disturbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t encourage him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You manage a nod and Leon turned to his friend, quick to envelop her in a tight embrace. You try to force an indifferent expression as they linger there for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then!” he finally released her, giving her shoulders a brief squeeze. “I’d better see to it that Miss [Y/n] here gets home in one piece. But I’ll give you a call later, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure! Just make sure that Charizard is leading the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his hands in defense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, of course. Give Yamper a few extra pets for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and agreed, watching the two of you as you headed outside. Charizard was watching rather patiently (you hardly realized that you had just up and left him out here, but he didn’t seem to mind too much) on the further end of the field. He hummed a jovial growl as you approached him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Charizard - think you can get us back to Motostoke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature nodded, leaning forward for his trainer to mount him. Leon pulled you up soon after, and you manage to contain your embarrassment. It’s a little easier, this time around. You preemptively press your face to Charizard’s back, wrapping your arms around his neck as Leon holds you steady. His embrace is just a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> tight, but you ignore it. The two of you take to the skies, promptly vanishing into the clouds.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry that not much really happens in this chapter, but we get a little background info on Reader's strange predicament. But it's always worth noting that this is still the buildup to the main storyline of the fic (Act 1, as I've dubbed it!). So bare with me, here, lol - things are going to start getting more serious in the next chapter!</p><p>Hope you guys enjoyed! Leave a comment down here, or if you'd like to chat, come find me on my Tumblr @andromedarune! See you guys Friday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Dynamax is Just a Cheap Tactic to Make Weak Trainers Stronger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before your Dynamax band arrived. The little wishing star inside of it glittered and gleamed just like any other, yet you couldn’t help but feel it mocking you. Just another reminder of what you failed to do. Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his word, Leon offered to help you learn how to Dynamax just a few days later. For a while, you contemplated on the results of such interaction. Sure, you had let your guard down once around him, but then again, that was when you both were in the presence of Raihan. Of course you would end up letting yourself get relatively comfortable around the dragon tamer - while he changed face faster than you were used to, you definitely knew how to manage his emotions. You could more or less predict what he would say by now, and knew just how to steer a conversation in your favor. Leon seemed a bit… a bit different. While he was just as confident as Raihan (probably moreso, now that you think about it), there was something about him that made you a bit more on edge, as of late Maybe it was that his smile was a little too sweet and his eyes were a little too curious. He could fluster you by saying a few suggestive words, only to step back and make you think it was entirely unintentional. It made him feel just a bit too perfect for your liking. Nobody with that much power was ever so genuinely innocent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This became all the more apparent when you realized that he wasn’t backing down. You declined him, he momentarily relented, changing the subject for a little while. Then it was back to battling. Then he was asking if he could show you a few things. Again, you declined, and the cycle repeated. Each time, he became a bit more firm, a bit more convincing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“A lot of beginners tend to get hurt their first time Dynamaxing,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>was one of his messages to you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“so it’d make me feel a bit better if I was there to monitor your techniques in person.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> You would feel an intense bout of shame every time you turned him down, but he always seemed to try and make it seem like it was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until he didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The last thing we need is an embarrassing display during the gym challenge. I’ll be over there in an hour, so be ready to train when I get there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, that was one of the most horrifying phone calls you’ve ever received. And that’s saying something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, here you were, pacing nervously in the middle of your hot, empty stadium. Your pokemon cluelessly watched you, trying to silently figure out what was making you so antsy. Flareon attempted to follow you around in circles before ultimately getting dizzy and slumping into the turf beside Arcanine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is definitely bad,” you couldn’t help but muse out loud. “If I have another bad reaction, there’s no telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’ll do. Hell, I’d feel more comfortable showing Raihan this! At least then, he’d probably keep it a secret just to blackmail me or something. I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> clue what Leon’s gonna do, guys. He could tell the chairman, he could get me kicked out, he could ruin my public image in just one second - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arceus have mercy on my soul that’s him.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, a familiar roar emitted from the skies. Descending like a knight in shining armor comes Champion Leon, his beautiful long hair fluttering as dramatically as his cape in the wind. The smile he gave you only served to reassure you that this was definitely going to end badly for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t read the true intentions behind that smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, then - shall we get started?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped down, giving you a quick side hug before stepping towards your team. He mentally analyzed them, thumb rubbing the shaved space on his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sound team. Who are you planning on Dynamaxing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine,” you hide all your apprehension, reminding yourself to keep on your guard. “He’s from my original team, back home. We’ve got the tightest bond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine nodded in your direction. You knew he could sense your worries, and he straightened up as tall as he could. He was a big pokemon, even for an Arcanine - he was probably only a little shorter than Leon himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good idea. The more you both trust in each other, the more power you amp up during the transformation. Now, let’s have everyone else move off the field for a minute. I want you and Arcanine to watch a live demonstration, first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You recalled your other two pokemon, gently guiding Arcanine to the side of the field. Leon walked back up to Charizard, holding his pokeball in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, buddy,” he smiled, “you ready to show ‘em how it’s done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charizard let out a fiery roar. You could feel the flames from here. You looked over to see Arcanine’s reaction. He had stars in his eyes; for a moment, you felt like you were a kid again, racing into your biggest battle yet with the newly evolved pup. You shook the thought away before it escaped your control. Leon recalled his pokemon, running a hand across his Dynamax band as a strange sort of energy swirled around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to Gigantamax!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ball increased in size in Leon’s hands, the red and black energy swirling around even more fervently than before. You felt the hair on the back of your neck rising, and Arcanine hunched back a bit. You’ve felt this before, but it was different, somehow. This was stronger - this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As if it weighed nothing at all, Leon tossed the ball into the air, watching as it released the enhanced pokemon from it’s confines. Not only was it ten times bigger than it was before, but the Charizard was in a unique new form, fire spewing from his powerful jaws as he growled to the darkened heavens. Your jaw dropped in the awe of it all, and you glanced down towards the now puny-looking Leon as he spread his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the power of a Galarian trainer!” he shouted, voice reverberating all around you despite the storm raging above. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gigantamax</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charizard roared again. The sheer power that these two displayed in this moment was enough to nearly send you to your knees. The only reason you were standing at all was because you were utterly paralyzed. Arcanine pressed his muzzle to your temple, grounding you in this world. You mindlessly ran your hands through his mane, eyes fixated on the scene before you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, buddy, let’s heat things up a bit with Max Flare!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon was more than happy to oblige, taking one heavy step back to produce a huge mass of flames in its maw. Aiming at nothing in particular, Charizard shot off one of the most powerful moves you had ever seen into the sky, heating up the air to almost unbearable levels. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How the heck is any of this allowed?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You couldn’t help but realize the sheer power behind such a technique as Leon announced another attack of a different type. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One wrong move and you’re dead! This is total overkill!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As another blast of world-ending flames drenched the skies, Leon looked over his shoulders, amber eyes illuminated by the intense lighting all around him. There was that look - that dangerous expression. It made your skin crawl in ways that Raihan’s version couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you impressed?” his voice was suddenly dark and low, invoking a terrible pull in your stomach that nearly made you flinch. “Or… am I seeing something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could hardly hear from him over the chaos that was the Dynamax storm, but his words reached you as clear as day. A newfound terror washed over you as he turned to face you completely, though he made no motion to move any closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mentioned that you had some reservations about Dynamaxing. Care to share them with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” you managed to pull yourself together. “I have my reasons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you refused to elaborate any further, Leon lifted his chin up, looking down on you even more. You fought with all your might to look back at him, in kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, now?” he cast you an almost sinister glare, putting his hands on his hips. “Need I remind you that you’re in the presence of the single-most powerful trainer in the entire region? There is no reason to hold yourself back from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s that tone of voice again. It’s impossible to truly understand those words with that tone. But you aren’t about to let his words get to you again. You step forward, much to Arcanine’s surprise. You straighten out your spine and get as close to the champion as you dare at that time (it isn’t very close, but at least you wouldn’t be yelling anymore). Fake confidence and brazen words wouldn’t do you much good here, you knew; no, this was far more delicate. You needed precision, a guaranteed attack to bring guaranteed results. Your expression remained stoic, your shoulders level, stance wide, all as you stood before a curious opponent that you knew you’d probably never defeat in a battle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe you didn’t need to win in a traditional sense; maybe you just needed to survive. And that, you were willing to bet, is where you had a chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Intimidate me all you want. But I didn’t come all this way just to fall at the feet of a man who needs a crown to think he’s important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You expected him to just shrug off your words. You even anticipated the idea that he would get pretty pissed off. But what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> expect was for him to completely freeze up. The storm was as strong as ever, lifting up your hair as the wind billowed around your bodies. Red electricity vibrated across the hairs of your arms, raising them ever so slightly from your sides as you watch the man process your words with a surprising amount of consideration. He seemed genuinely surprised at that. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a loud hissing noise cut him off. In the background, Charizard gave out a growl, suddenly being enveloped in that dark red light that drenched your vision almost completely. When you finally recovered, the storm was slipping away, and Charizard was back to normal. Leon was staring at his partner, lips pursed ever so slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” he finally hummed. “...definitely didn’t see </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> coming…” The man slowly turned over to you, face entirely unreadable. But it wasn’t as harsh as you thought it would be. No - despite holding no real concrete emotion, those amber irises glimmered almost… inquisitively? Huh. “Three turns. That’s all you get from a typical Dynamax battle. Without expending energy, most Dynamax effects last up to five minutes. That’s all it’s ever taken for me to get exactly what it is that I want. And yet, here you are, running down the clock just to see if you can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… interesting, to say the least. I’ve never been on the receiving end of a tactic like that. Most people come for me head-on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because nobody really wants to fight you. They just want to say that they did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon blinks a few times. He’s silent to the point where you mentally curse yourself out for saying that. Sometimes, you just say the most insane shit. Was your special talent going to be the death of you, right here and now? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe you’ll live a little longer, because Leon starts laughing. Yes, that terribly loud, terribly infectious, booming laugh. You can’t resist a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll admit it - Raihan was right about you. You know how to hit a man where it hurts. But rest assured, I have always been one to learn from my mistakes, and am always getting better. So, as my way of saying thanks, I’ll tell you something:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chairman Rose wants everyone to Dynamax. Every single match where it’s possible should contain Dynamax strategies. We all should want to display our power and prestige every chance we get. So, with you having all the power and capabilities to Dynamax but </span>
  <em>
    <span>refusing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do so, well… that makes things a bit difficult. So please, don’t confuse my intentions here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> your intentions, then, Leon?” you spoke sternly, lowering your chin just a bit. “‘Cause if I’m being honest, here, it feels like you’ve been pretending to be all buddy-buddy with me, only to end up getting frustrated when you didn’t get your way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips pushed together into a slight grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may not believe me, but believe these words: you’d rather deal with me. The other option is much worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face suddenly darkened, hands curling into cold fists at his sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh-ho-ho! Leon finally reveals a bit of his dark side! But this was only a taste of it. Next week, we will see just what sort of chaos Reader has really gotten herself into. Hope y'all enjoyed today's installment - don't forget to leave a comment with your thoughts and ideas! What do you think of Leon? What is this special talent Reader keeps mentioning? Why can't Reader Dynamax? WHEN WILL PIERS COME BACK??? I wanna hear what you guys think~!</p><p>Fear not! The true answers for these questions and more will be found as the story continues! So please enjoy the ride~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Haha, I'm in Danger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alright, this wasn’t exactly the fun little self-improvement job you think you were promised. Though, now that you really think about it, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> remember Kabu sitting you down and telling you to regard the other league members in the same manner as you would regard any other stranger - with respect, but at a distance. Have fun, but don’t let your guard down. Be honest, but don’t show all your cards. You’d like to think you’ve honored his advice thus far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here you were, slumped on the ground with Flareon worriedly running all around you, your body threatening to give up all together. Arcanine was in a similar state, collapsed on the ground as Salazzle attempted to awaken its ally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a few days since that haunting conversation with Leon, and you had been desperately trying to make Dynamax work for you. But every time, just as you raised the ball in the air, you felt it - that terrible, piercing pain in your heart that sent you crumbling to your knees without fail. The world swirled around you, making it difficult to breath. You tried to focus on petting Flareon, but he was trembling and twitching so much from nerves that it freaked you out even moreso. He was trying his best. He just wasn’t his brother, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the pain finally began to subside, you managed to pull yourself to your feet. You stumbled over to Arcanine, who had also come to, and looked apologetically at him as he let out a low whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry,” you sighed, looking deep into his dark eyes, “You shouldn’t have to go through this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whined again, this time giving a small </span>
  <em>
    <span>borf</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you wanna try again, but this… this isn’t working! We’ll die before we figure it out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your partners traded worried glances with each other as you sank back down to the ground. Hands over your face, you let out a loud groan. Things were silent for a moment, then you heard them shuffling about. A few moments later, you felt a paw on your leg. You looked up to see Flareon, staring rather intently at you. The strap of your duffel bag was in his mouth. A sad smile fell onto your face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did your best, Flareon,” you scratched his chin before reaching for the bag. “I’m really thankful for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flareon yipped, watching as you dug through your bag before finding the specific pokeball in mind. Without wasting another breath, you aimed and released, watching the form of a Vaporeon appear before you. He shook his body out, giving his surroundings a quick glance over before his coal-black eyes settled on you. He immediately rushed over, pressing his cool scaly body onto your lap. You instinctively laid back, sprawling your limbs out as he nestled himself on your chest. He wasn’t heavy, but he wasn’t as light as Flareon; just the ideal amount of weight you needed right now. You took a deep breath, trying to shut your eyes to relax as the coolness of his body began to seep into your chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vaporeon had always been your comfort pokemon. While he wasn’t your first pokemon, nor was he your ace pokemon, he had always had a unique bond with you ever since you hatched him from an egg. You don’t think he’s ever been out of reach from you; even in his pokeball, he’s always close to your person. He was one of your strongest partners during your days in Hoenn, and became your biggest crutch when everything went to shit. He understood better than anyone what you were dealing with; he was the only other pokemon with you that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day you stopped living.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, shit,” you mumbled, throwing an arm over your watery eyes. Vaporeon gave a little purr, rubbing his damp nose against your cheek. You peeked out to look at him before finally wrapping your arms around his body. The tranquil creature nuzzled closer to you. “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of your team sat by your side, silently cheering you on as you had your little pity party. You didn’t start bawling like you normally do, so that was a plus. But you did feel like shit, and you probably looked like shit, now, too. Nevertheless, Vaporeon licked your tears away, always eager to provide whatever comfort he could without words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar chirp in the sky nearly sends you bolting into the air. Vaporeon growled a bit at being suddenly dropped on the ground, but once you gave him an apology and a neck scratch, he was back at your side. You scrambled to your feet just in time to see Raihan land a few feet away from you, relaxed as ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, there, princess. Find the secrets of Dynamaxing yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” you nearly hiss, crossing your arms in a vain attempt to control your frustration. “No, I haven’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So even Leon and the professor couldn’t help you out? Damn. The only other thing I can think to offer is the Macro Cosmos Research Team. Though I should warn you: it’s led by Oleana, so no sudden movements, if you end up there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You really weren’t in the mood to match his playful tone of voice, so you just shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan gave you a curious glance. He tried to lean forward a bit, but you pulled away, opting instead to dust off the turf from your red uniform. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, uh…” Thankfully, he trailed off, changing his focus from your face to your Vaporeon. “Oh, hey, you have a Vaporeon? I thought you were a fire-type specialist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I thought you were a dragon-type specialist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed at that. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for trying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know, I know - I get that </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time. But my team fits my weather-altering strategy. This is a water-type - it’s hardly anything like the rest of your team. He’s not a competition pokemon, is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not these days. He used to be a big part of my old team back in Hoenn, though these days, he’s mostly my little firefighter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vaporeon gave a proud yap. Raihan knelt down, extending the tips of his fingers for the creature to sniff. It wasn’t long before Vaporeon was nuzzling the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, you’re a total cutie. I bet you’re a total beast on the field, huh? Reminds me a bit of Goodra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? Goodra are naturally sweet though, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right. But she takes it to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole</span>
  </em>
  <span> other level.” He glances up at you. “To be honest, you remind me a lot of her, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m a big giant slime monster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed again, giving Vaporeon one last pet before standing straight up as he looked down at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re mad cute, but could probably beat the shit out of me if you really wanted to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rolled your eyes, finding the strength to deal with his constant flirting. You could see it in his eyes, the way his shockingly blue eyes seemed to swirl a bit every time you reacted joked back with him. There wasn’t any ill-intention there that you could see. Now, Leon on the other hand… You shivered. You didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> was in those eyes. You weren’t sure if he wanted to hug you, kill you, or… </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Raihan cocked his head a bit as you visibly tensed up at the memory of your last encounter with the champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to pry, but… you doing alright, princess? You seem a bit uneasy today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know you shouldn’t risk it, but you can’t help yourself. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> Leon’s rival and best friend, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Would Leon… I dunno… Would you say that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust</span>
  </em>
  <span> Leon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan raised an eyebrow at this. But he didn’t bat your question away like you almost expected. In fact, he tensed up a bit, becoming strangely serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he do something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, but -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around real fast before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, quickly pulling you into a brisk walk towards the inner facilities of the stadium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Best to talk about this somewhere a bit more private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. Somehow, a part of you wished that he would have just lied to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you step into your small little office. It’s moderately decorated to a simple red theme - not too fancy but not too plain. Some gold and black accents here and there, mostly visible on the sofa in the far ends of the room and on your only-sort-of-messy desk. Raihan shut the door firmly behind you, making it just the two of you as he walked towards the sofa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hesitate. Raihan tries to offer a reassuring smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine if you don’t really trust me. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re not fed up with me yet. But I’m not so high and mighty that I’m just gonna ignore that freaked out look you had earlier. So, if something happened, I’d like to know - not just because I’m nosy, but because I want to help make sure that it gets solved. I’d like to think I haven’t completely sold my soul.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod a bit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I’m making a bigger deal out of this than I really need to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you think briefly to yourself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s making me feel like I’ll tell him that Leon did something terrible. But…</span>
  </em>
  <span> you pass another glance at Raihan, who’s staring intently at you with a remarkably soft expression. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He seems surprisingly worried for someone who’s supposed to be Leon’s BFF. A little </span>
  </em>
  <span>too</span>
  <em>
    <span> worried</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t tell anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You swear you won’t Ratata me out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dragons are known for their ability to keep secrets for generations. I’d like to think that I’m no different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words manage to ease the tension in your chest. Not entirely, but just enough to let you take a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The truth is, I’ve been having trouble Dynamaxing. For the past few years, I’ve had bad reactions to battle enhancers like that, Mega Evolution included. So, I asked Leon to help me get in touch with Professor Magnolia. But I didn’t tell him why. I don’t know, maybe I’m seeing things - but he seemed a bit… upset, at that.” You paused, judging Raihan’s expression. He rested his head on his hand, humming a bit to urge you onwards. “And, well, a few days later, I get my Dynamax band. And Leon offers to help teach me. I tried to politely reject, but he was pretty adamant. So he decides to give a demonstration, and at this point I’m a little freaked out and then he starts acting super imposing and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like he was trying to intimidate you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, something like that. I mean… It’s not the first time someone’s acted like that to me, but I gotta be honest: </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was freaky. Then he told me that he was just trying to help me, that I should be more worried about the chairman, instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan sighed, leaning back into the sofa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, I wish I could tell you that he was wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shot your eyes back to him, a bit startled at that. That really wasn’t the answer you were hoping for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan stared blankly up at the ceiling, wrists resting on his thighs as he exhaled loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to scare you, but Leon’s right. You’d be better off having us help you than the chairman and his personal team. If he starts to think that you might not Dynamax for a battle, man - you’ll be wishing that you’d have stayed in Hoenn. Trust us on this one, princess. No matter your reasons for not wanting to Dynamax, you don’t want Rose to intervene.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Piers doesn’t -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers doesn’t have much to lose. He’s got close eyes on his baby sister at all times, but other than that, Rose can’t touch him. Hell, Macro Cosmos absolutely refuses to even go near Spikemuth. But I wouldn’t exactly look at that in comfort. His entire city is pretty rough and doesn’t get funding hardly at all, all thanks to his refusal to Dynamax even in exhibition matches. I’m not even sure he gets paid. I wouldn’t wanna look to him as an example.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s gotta be </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you rake your hand through your hair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I… I just can’t do it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan was silent for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Why didn’t Kabu warn you about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said that if I just trained enough, I could overcome the issue and Dynamax without fail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I mean, why didn’t he warn you about Rose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked at him again. He wasn’t looking at you. No, he was ever so focused on the ceiling. His breathing was remarkably steady, but you could see his own hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his hoodie. His jaw was tense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...He told me to be careful of who I trusted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he didn’t tell you what you were getting into, did he?” You looked away. You didn’t have an answer to that; Raihan was painfully right. “I don’t want to scare you, but I don’t want you getting hurt, either. I give you my word that you can trust me, even just a little. It’s kind of a rule of mine never to betray someone’s trust, never stab anyone in the back. So… I hope you don’t think that I’m a mindless follower of the chairman. But in the case of Leon…” Raihan chuckled a bit. “I’d trust him with my life, so long as I still have Rose’s favor. But that doesn’t mean he’s heartless. I know that he just wanted to scare you a bit just so you wouldn’t think to get on Rose’s naughty list - the champ hates him just as much as the rest of us - probably more so, all things considered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, you felt bad about thinking poorly of Leon. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed, even if his words rarely matched his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Raihan. That… I feel a lot better about things, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s the plan? You mentioned not being able to Dynamax at all, which is definitely a problem that we’ve gotta address before the gym challenge starts. Is there anything I can do to help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sighed. As much as you hated to admit it, Raihan was right. If Rose was enough to even make </span>
  <em>
    <span>Leon</span>
  </em>
  <span> nervous - mind you, the most powerful trainer in the region - you knew that you had no choice. You would need to learn how to Dynamax, and fast. So, there were your two choices: ignore everyone’s warning and dare to defy Chairman Rose, or risk ruining you </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> your pokemon in the name of trusting these individuals who claimed to have your best interests in mind. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, catching the dragon tamer’s attention. How ironic it was - trust someone was the reason you were in this mess in the first place, and now you had to risk going through that nightmare </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the name of solving it. Yeah, sounds about right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, actually, I think you can help me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted to see me, chairman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose looked up from his paperwork, giving Leon a charming smile as the younger man stepped into the room. For once, Miss Oleana was not present. She was likely doing business elsewhere, which served only as a mild comfort to the champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes. Have a seat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon silently obeyed, resting down in the elegant oak and velvet seat on the other side of Rose’s desk. A freshly bloomed red rose rested in a vase on his desk, thorns still sharp along its stem. It’s scent was noteworthy, even though it was just a single unit. Leon paused to note how revoltingly poetic that was in this moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did your conversation with [Y/n] go the other day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right to the chase for once</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Leon thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank Arceus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It… went surprisingly, to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Is that so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The champion nodded. “She’s definitely strong-willed, but doesn’t act stronger than she is. I can tell she’s a good strategist; she’s made it apparent in even casual conversation that she can match the personality of everyone she speaks to in order to get a better read on their future actions. It’s rather unique. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t admire that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How interesting. Now that you mention, I do recall reading about that in the report... A more, perhaps, casual version of code-switching, if I had to call it something. She might have made a successful business woman, if she wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon tensed up a bit. Rose smirked, but quickly tucked away the joy in his face at the male’s discomfort as he brushed a wavy curl from his brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” Rose continued, “I am curious to know: did she mention her feelings towards Dynamaxing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... She… has her reasons not to, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose sighed, folding his hands together atop the cool surface of the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear boy, doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>everybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>? The fear of destruction, the fear of losing control, the fear of inflicting pain - I’ve heard them all. But I’d like you to consider something: how does a promising young trainer go from boasting Mega Evolution in every single one of her battles, only to disappear for years and eventually returning with a sudden refusal to use any sort of battle enhancement strategy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon felt his jaw tense up. Rose didn’t even need to raise his voice to cause record amounts of cortisol to skyrocket in his bloodstream. At least in Miss Oleana, he knew she gets angry because she cares too much. Leon knew that in Chairman Rose, it was because he didn’t care at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Leon remained silent, Rose shrugged, swiveling his chair to the side to glance out the giant windows behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have placed much faith in you. I’m sure you know just how much I’ve done to ensure that your days as the undefeatable champion have been more than comfortable for you and your family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ve always been grateful for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose smiled a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, I’m sure you know better than anybody how quickly everything can disappear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, the champion knows he doesn’t just mean the comfort. Not just the comfort, not just the money, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His stomach churned at the idea of that terrible fall from the mountain he had conquered, how he might one day be forced to look upon all the faces of those he hurt and betrayed in his own name. He didn’t want to see his family among the fallen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad we both understand.” Chairman Rose turned his head back towards the champion, who was breathing just a little too heavily to be calm. “If [Y/n] doesn’t successfully Dynamax in her first official match as gym leader, then I’m afraid she will be of no use and considered a threat to the league. We can’t afford another cult following arising and destroying a once memorable city. You will personally see to it that she masters the skill. I would rather not lose such a profitable trainer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I don’t, Chairman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose smirked. This was perhaps his favorite thing about Leon; he wasn’t afraid to ask what would happen if he failed. Not that Leon had ever failed him - not yet, at least. He just wanted to weigh his sins with his consequences. Even Chairman Rose had to admit that this once innocent boy had grown understandably cautious in his years as champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, I’m afraid that the lovely Miss [Y/n] will face another unfortunate break from battling. Perhaps permanently. And as for you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll lose my position, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I don’t plan on losing your talents as a champion any time soon…” Leon almost let out a sigh of relief when Rose’s voice picked up again. “What was that boy’s name again? Your little brother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon jumped to his feet, slamming a hand on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do it!” he growled, barely remembering in time to keep his voice down. “I’ll get her to Dynamax, just… God</span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Rose chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the reverberation from Leon’s words hung in the air. Perhaps he was being a bit greedy, but Chairman Rose knew a good opportunity when he saw one. He was willing to roll the dice with this girl; after all, her sort hardly ever backed down from a fight even with the odds stacked high against them. And judging from the report that Oleana typed up for him, Rose had a feeling that you knew that pain far better than most people.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chairman Rose finally makes an appearance! Sure is a lovely bloke, wouldn't you say~? </p><p>Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you guys for your continued support. I honestly love nothing more than seeing giant paragraphs of people's thoughts in my comment section! So please, don't hesitate to do so - even if it's (constructive) criticism, I wanna hear it! Gimme your theories and ideas, so I can giggle and say 'who knows???' and get all excited for whatever I have planned for you all. </p><p>Also, it's worth reminding that if you wanna chat about the fic or about PKMN in general, I have a Tumblr (which is also where my request fics can be found, as well), @andromedarune. I'd love to chat and make some friends while I'm at it! </p><p>Okay I'll shut up lolol - with that, see you guys on Friday! I think you guys...will really get hyped (bc I know I'm vibrating in anticipation... hehehehe)...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I Would Actually Rather be on Fire Than be Here, Right Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ooo, y'all ain't ready for this shit-storm.</p><p>Also, here's the reappearance people have been waiting for...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Piers stared up at his phone, ignoring the little red bar on the top right of the screen as he mindlessly scrolled through social media. Not that he really considered himself a social media junkie - he could probably go without it and not think twice. But, even he had to admit, it was a little useful. He could keep tabs on other musicians and bands from around the world, and had a reliable way to keep in contact with a few international friends if he ever found himself in a situation. He didn’t exactly want to be fleeing the region any time soon, but one could never be too careful, all things considered. One hand resting just underneath the hem of his shirt, the other holding his phone above his head - he didn’t even want to think about his hair, with it lightly swirling around his shoulders and down the sides of his bed in his peripherals. No doubt it was all sorts of tangled, thanks to his inability to properly get it braided up the night before after he drank himself into oblivion. He’d deal with it later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But later came a bit sooner than he had hoped. Marnie knocked on his door (who else would it be?), and he called for her to come in. The teen was dressed and ready like she was going somewhere, wearing the old leather jacket he himself had bought for her just the year before. His eyes misted a bit at the thought of her still wearing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m goin’ out,” that high-pitched of voice, always so blunt and serious. “I’ll be back before sundown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Motostoke’s Battle Cafe. I’m gonna need some more practice before the gym challenge this year. I wanna get a headstart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers put down his phone, turning over onto his side as he gave his sister a stern look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marnie…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Piers,” she groaned, stomping her foot a little. “I just turned thirteen ‘n you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> treatin’ me like a baby!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It ain’t safe out there. Not right now. Besides, you’ll have plenty’a time to train once the challenge starts up. Team Yell’ll be out there to keep a close eye on ya, so - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoyin’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can handle myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better be safe than sorry. What’re you even goin’ all the way to Motostoke for? Plenty’a good trainers down by the stage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie rolled her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’m gonna be fightin’ different kinds of trainers, I oughta practice fightin’ different kinds of trainers. Can’t just fight Nickits and Zizagoons all day long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Experience is experience, Marn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl groaned again. She squinted onto her brother’s frame, crossing her arms as she stepped a bit deeper into the dark room. A deep frown settled onto her round face the more she kept looking at his dismal appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, when was the last time you left the city for somethin’ other than work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O</span>
  <em>
    <span>kaaaay</span>
  </em>
  <span>… When was the last time you got outta </span>
  <em>
    <span>bed</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He genuinely had to ponder that last question a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, what day is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fer the love’a - I’m goin’, whether you like it or not. I’m not just gonna sit around all day - I’ll never become champion doin’ that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers sighed, pushing himself up from the bed to get a better look at his sister. She seemed genuinely pretty miffed at him, pursing her lips as she furrowed her brows at him. He felt a little bad. It wasn’t the first time, and most certainly wouldn’t be the last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marn, I don’t wanna go crushin’ your dreams -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get all that way just to realize that it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared back at him, her serious green eyes trembling ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t think I can do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course I do!” the older brother was on his feet in an instant, hands on his little sister’s shoulders. Even though she had grown so much, she was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>so very small</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She was still just a child. “You’re one of the best trainers out there. You and Morpeko make an amazin’ team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you so against me bein’ champion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers tried to meet her eyes, but couldn’t. He looked down, feeling a brief wave of self-pity. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wouldn’t have to worry if only I were a better gym leader.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But that brief moment was replaced by a stronger sense of rage. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If only Rose weren’t such a fuckin’ asshole - I definitely wouldn’t have to worry then!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rather than admitting any of those feelings to her, he put on a little smile, looking back at his only real family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too much like me. We don’t exactly follow the rules very well, ‘n we sure as hell don’t like bein’ dancin’ Mankeys.. You’d hate it up there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d make it work,” she shrugged. “Besides, with all that champion money, I could go ‘n fix up Spikemuth. Maybe get it back to how you say it used to be. I dunno - maybe I’ll even help fund your band to go on a world tour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers chuckled a bit at that. There she goes again, thinking about everyone else before herself. She’d be a great champion, albeit a stubborn one. But that was never his main concern. No - he wanted to support Marnie with all his heart, but it’d be a cold day in Hell before he’d let the chairman make his little sister a puppet. He didn’t envy Leon one bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you’d at least be a bit more selfish,” he fixed her bangs a little. “It’d be easier to tell you ‘no’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, does that mean I can go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl huffed, pouting her lips yet again. Piers walked back over to his bed, checking his phone. It apparently shut off when he was talking, so he plugged it into the charger that stuck out from behind his nightstand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay in the city, where I can keep an eye on ya. I promise that you’ll get out there soon ‘nuff. Just not right now, ‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she didn’t respond, he looked back to her, calling her name. Marnie was frowning, arms crossed over her chest as she shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could react, the girl stomped out of the room and ran out the front door, making sure to slam the door extra loud. Piers winced a bit, mildly wondering if she might have cracked the framing. He ran a hand through his hair, but it immediately snagged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he muttered, giving his normally lucious locks a quick glance. Looks like he’d have to get out of bed after all. He just hoped that Marnie would actually listen and stay in the city. Not wanting to risk another thought, he got back up, grabbing some clothes and a fresh towel before making his way towards the bathroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan’s Duralulon was kind enough to let you lean against him as you picked yourself up. The creature made a deep hum as you finally straightened yourself out, glancing over at you from your side. Though you wouldn’t say it out loud, it sort of helped you recover faster since the heat made Duralulon’s metal plating made your skin burn every time you slumped against him. You looked across the field to lock eyes with the dragon-type specialist; the shine of concern reflected in the electric blue of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You came up (in your mind) with the theory that maybe you couldn’t Dynamax correctly because you were stressing yourself out. And you made the connection that everytime you were with Raihan, you felt his own calm wash over you. So, you made a theory that if Raihan were here to keep you level-headed, you just might be able to pull it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>sort of </span>
  </em>
  <span>worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You got into position, Raihan standing on the other side of the field with his Flygon, and took the steps towards Dynamaxing. You recalled Arcanine, summoned all the hopes and dreams you had in your heart, and felt the ball’s weight and power increasing in your palms. The storm brewed around you, and you tossed the ball into the air. Just as Arcanine was summoned, your expression of wild excitement snapped into unbearable agony. It was like lightning stabbed into your core, forcing a scream from your throat and a howl from Arcanine. Everything stumbled painfully down to a halt as Arcanine slammed to the ground, returning back to normal, as you fought to keep conscious. You could hear Raihan exclaim your name, but you waved him off. You at least wanted a little bit of dignity, right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once you were upright, Raihan shook his head, calling Flygon to heel as he strode towards you. A welt of shame built up in your throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen enough. It’s too dangerous for you both to keep trying to Dynamax - there’s no way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but I gotta think of something. If I’m kicked out of the league for something as dumb as this, it’ll reflect badly on Kabu -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Kabu would want you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span> over this?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrunk back a bit. You knew he meant no harm, but it was still a bit scary to see someone you would probably describe as a gentle giant raise his voice at you. He seemed to realize his mistake, pulling back a few inches, and let out a sigh. He said your name, and you managed to look him in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mentioned something about this having started a few years ago. Could you use Mega Evolution before?” You nod. “And then… all the sudden, you just couldn’t anymore?” You grimace. You know where this is going. “Did something happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the way Raihan’s looking so worried right now, so honest and genuine, you feel yourself losing the will to keep it all in. Your eyes get a little misty, and your knees tremble underneath you. You’re finding the courage to speak, but not before the distant sounds of a Charizard stuns you both into silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan shoots his head up towards the sky, which has a convenient cloud cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” he hissed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the field. Your pokemon struggle to keep up with his large strides. “This can’t be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said we could trust him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only in the best of times, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ducked under into the hallway, pulling you to his side as he practically carried you into the dressing rooms and down to the lobby. There, you both paused to recall your pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, here’s the plan - I’ll distract him for a hot minute while you get some distance. Don’t risk running into any other gym leaders - if Leon’s really looking for you, then he’ll be asking around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-where should I go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anywhere but here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon’s… not a bad guy, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes for a minute, trying to think of the best thing to say before looking back down at you with a painfully serious expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope not. Now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You waste no time. You race out of the stadium, keeping close to the walls of buildings, keeping your head down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan watches you go, hands in his pockets. A part of him would rather have gone with you, made sure that you were safe, but that wouldn’t be wise. No, as much as he hated to do it, he had to figure out the exact intentions behind Leon’s behavior. He could only hope that they weren’t as bad as they seemed, because Raihan knew that he wouldn’t be strong enough to stop the champion. He headed towards the pitch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If there was one thing that Piers hated more than mainstream pop music and pastels, it was unnecessary time in the sunlight. Literally nothing good </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> came about it. It was hot and annoying, you get all sweaty and disgusting, you turn into a literal Tamato berry - it fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But, if there was something everyone knew about Piers, it was that he could be pretty stubborn on certain things, like vehemently refusing to wear hats or always picking out the most obnoxiously loud pair of heeled boots he could find. All of those perhaps petty decisions led him here, in the middle of Motostoke on a particularly busy Friday, long fringe sticking to his sweaty face and hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his thick leather jacket. The things this man will do to keep his beloved aesthetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored the sideways glances he received in favor of looking for Marnie. The little girl mentioned something about the Battle Cafe, which was most likely nearby the stadium. He turned the corner, glancing around a few times in hopes of finding her out in the open. Instead, he found something else. Or, rather, it found him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You barrelled straight into the unsuspecting gym leader, sending the two of you tumbling to the ground with a loud and shared “</span>
  <em>
    <span>OOF</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Your face slammed right into his chest, and you were sure you could hear his back crack as he slapped hard onto the toasty concrete. A few people watched as you both shared a deep groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” you tried to push yourself up, blinking away stars. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked down at the figure beneath you, and immediately felt yourself pale. You recognized him immediately - of course, just after Raihan told you to be wary of other gym leaders, you run right into </span>
  <em>
    <span>another fucking gym leader</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You think to bolt before he sees you, but he opens his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>get off</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You mutter a meek apology, scrambling to your feet as you extend a hand down to him. He ignores you, standing up on his own volition. Even with his bad posture, he towers over you, though not nearly as much as Raihan does. But the expression he’s got on his face is far less comforting than Raihan’s happy-go-lucky smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he suddenly squints a bit at your face. “You’re the new gym leader girl, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeeeeaaaah</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. ‘M lookin’ for someone. You seen a little girl runnin’ ‘round here somewhere? ‘Bout this tall, two pigtails, pink dress, black jacket?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t expect that. You blinked a few times in surprise as he waited patiently for you to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh… No, actually, I, uh, I haven’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit. Alright then. Battle Cafe’s that way, right?” He leaned sideways, looking behind you. Suddenly, his eyes widened a bit as he looked up. “Uh… What’s, uh… what’s goin’ on at your gym?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You almost didn’t want to turn around. But because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know, you turn around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, Arceus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> going on at your gym?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan put on his best smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Champ. Here for a rematch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is she?” Leon growled, hardly waiting for Charizard to land as he jumped to the ground. Raihan shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who? You gotta be a bit more specific, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit messing around, Raihan - I’m talking about [Y/n]! Where is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t say. She’s probably off doing some gym leader business. Maybe another -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re trying to waste my time here, Raihan. You know where she is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan was silent for a moment, trying to figure out the puzzle before it was time. Leon definitely looked worked up, his clothes just a bit disheveled and his eyes holding nothing but hatred. Not hatred for him, the dragon tamer knew. But for someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who wants to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, if you keep acting as Rose’s pet, you’re just gonna burn yourself out. I can’t beat you fair and square in a match if you kill yourself being that man’s slave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that and you know it. You know what Rose’ll do if I don’t listen - you of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all people</span>
  </em>
  <span> should know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan’s smile faded. Oh, he did know the consequences of denying Rose. Despite his relaxed body language, Leon could see the taller man’s face glint with the slightest hint of rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Leon looked back up at Raihan’s eyes. “Tell me where she is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I do, what are you gonna do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She needs to know that failure to Dynamax will not only mean her imminent dismissal from the league, but may be the end of her career altogether.” Leon sighed a bit, letting some of the stress he held in his heart show just for a second. “I’m not here to hurt her, if that’s what you’re asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been trying all day. Something just isn’t right - it’s like she physically can’t Dynamax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why become gym leader if she can’t Dynamax?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kabu convinced her that she’d figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit…” the champion growled under his breath. “That’s ridiculous. He’s the last person who would think something so foolish.” Once Leon got over the brief welt of anger, he shook his head, taking another step towards Raihan. “Well, now that you know I’m not going to hurt her, are you gonna tell me where she is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I don’t trust you, Leon, but I don’t trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, Raihan, I’m trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are. But what happens if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> help her? What are you gonna do then, huh, when Rose decides that she isn’t worth his time anymore? Will you still be saying that when Rose tells you to get rid of her yourself, just like you did to -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>SHUT UP!”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Leon snatched up Charizard’s pokeball and recalled the pokemon, immediately summoning the power of battle enhancement. Raihan steadied himself as Leon released the gigantic beast, a terrible Gigantamax storm tearing into the once serene sky. The dragon tamer had no choice; he readied Duralulon’s ball.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were so caught up staring at the world’s most terrifying Dynamax storm that raged above your stadium that you didn’t hear Piers calling your name over and over again. He cautiously tapped your shoulder, making you jump a bit and turn to face him with wild eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everythin’ alright? What’s goin’ on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large blast of fire erupted into the sky, catching everyone’s attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Leon, he’s -” your voice got caught in your throat. Piers frowned, glancing back up at the sky. He seemed to get the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A month in and you’re already on their bad side,” he muttered, risking a little smirk down at you while you weren’t looking. “Not bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another explosion rumbled the earth. You tumbled backwards, but Piers was quick to grab your shoulders and set you right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, he’s pissed. Tell ya what - help me grab my sister, and I’ll get ya outta here, ASAP. Sound fair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. You just want to get the hell out of here. Something tells you that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t want Leon to find you, especially with how he seems to be going all out against Raihan. You grab Pier’s sleeve and drag him down the street, pointing down to the left behind a tall building to reveal the small Motostoke Battle Cafe. Due to its proximity to the stadium, several people were leaving the building in a mild panic. One particular little girl caught Piers’ attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marnie!” he shouted, immediately slipping out of your grasp and down the street. You raced after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers?” the girl turned her head, only to be scooped up into a tight hug. “What’re ya -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you not to go!” he suddenly plopped her down to the ground, a stern expression settling onto his tired face. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you it was dangerous!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re overreactin’. It’s just a battle - not the end of the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, opening his mouth to speak before instead opting to just grab the girl’s arm and drag her down the street. You awkwardly followed after them as the little girl hissed protests at her brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re goin’ back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I just got here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly dropped to a kneel and began to whisper feverishly into his sister’s ear. You couldn’t see her expression, but you could see her body tense up a little bit here and there. She looked back to you for a moment, eyes wide. The girl’s curious green eyes switched between you and her brother, clearly making a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Fine. But only ‘cause of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the girl started walking down the street. Piers sighed in relief, standing up straight as he beckoned you to follow. Okay, definitely not how you imagined today would go, but it couldn’t be all that bad. You just hoped that you could trust Piers. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a gym leader, after all. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Woo! How was it? Finally, a lingering moment for all us Piers simps! Didn't expect him to be our knight in shining armor today, did ya?</p><p>Raihan tries his best to help, Leon's intentions get murkier by the second, and Piers seems more interested in the safety of his sister and his sanity more than anything else. What else will be thrown at our poor Reader?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Okay, Angst is Fun and All, but I was Promised Fluff, Goddammit!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You had a bit of a special talent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite being particularly asocial, you had to admit that you had some minor empathic abilities when it came to understanding people. One person at a time, you could read and understand body language quick enough to be able to sort of mirror their personality. This has really been your ace in the hole most of your life. But it wasn’t exactly natural to you, however. No, it was a skill that you developed over time, having found yourself desperately lonely for a number of years but almost constantly rejected by your peers. So, it came to a point where you would start stealing personalities, giving people a familiar version of yourself that they saw themself in. And for much of your life, this has worked consistently on all different types of people. The only time in recent years you really struggled to get a read on someone’s true personality was with Leon, in recent developments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Piers was a whole other story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not that you couldn’t read him. Oh, you could read this boy like it was bold comic sans print made for the elderly. But what made the whole situation difficult wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> to read, it was what you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>reading</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a basic fact that everyone wants to connect with other people in some way, shape, or form. Humans are naturally social creatures, after all. But, after twenty minutes of silent observation, you began to realize that this guy was ignoring that fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Entirely closed off, he stared down at his phone, a perpetual scowl resting quite naturally on his pale face. Once the three of you hopped into a flying taxi, he sat in the middle, sitting notably closer to Marnie. He seemed determined to get out of here as quickly and quietly as possible - emphasis on </span>
  <em>
    <span>quietly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You had tried to make some minor conversation, but he either gave short responses or ignored you altogether. When you tried to mimic his posture in hopes of building some sort of unconscious rapport, he ignored you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>further</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There was no hatred or disdain in his body language, no, but he definitely didn’t look comfortable around you at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie, on the other hand, was constantly stealing glances at you every few minutes. While she was just as unreadable as Piers was in regards to body language and expression, she seemed to be far more interested in your presence than her much older brother. Occasionally, you’d hear her take a breath of air as if to speak, only for no words to come out. You silently willed her the courage to say something - </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> - to break the tense silence. Some minutes later, your prayers were answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the new gym leader, right?” she suddenly spoke out. Despite looking relatively intimidating for a kid, she had the most unassumingly adorable voice. You decide not to coo lovingly at her in favor of voicing affirmation at her question (and also because you didn’t want to piss anyone off). “I’m Marnie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Marnie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more breaths of silence. Marnie looks up at Piers, who is still frowning rather mindlessly, then back over to your nervous expression. You can see her squint a bit at you before turning to look out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brother’s single, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Marnie</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Piers snapped. The girl snickered a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? It’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not important!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged, peeking over to examine your face. You were definitely flustered, taking tiny scoots away from the brother. You don’t exactly know why you do, but you do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just teasin’. Needed to get ya back somehow for ruinin’ my day of training.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers mumbled something under his breath, huffing a bit before glaring even harder at the device in his hands. Maybe it was just a sunburn from earlier, but his face was definitely red. You didn’t linger on that, though; the last thing you needed right then was for him to catch you staring at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three of you finally reached the gates of Spikemuth. You had never been, needing only the rumors to motivate you from wanting to visit. And boy, howdy, those rumors held up. The place was a total fucking wreck. While it wasn’t littered with trash and hookers and suspicious syringes, most buildings looked moments away from falling apart, along with plenty of shifty looking civilians gave you (notably, </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> you) piercing glares. Graffiti art covered damn near every visible surface of the city, making it surprisingly colorful even in the ever-looming shade that coated the city despite it being daylight. The artwork was lovely, you had to admit; you could have sworn you even saw a beautiful graffiti mural of what looked to be Marnie somewhere in an alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walked down the road, unbothered by most of the people on the street, before eventually making your way towards the ends of the city. Not as many buildings were around here; mostly what seemed like it </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a park before being modified into a cage-match-looking battle grid. Behind the grid, a large black podium resided, covered in a thick black tarp. In the distance, you could see a small black bungalow in the shadows. Piers guided the two of you around the cage, pulling out a pair of keys to unlock the front door of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oof.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, you don’t get to talk because your apartment was kinda messy, too. But this was… uhhh…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ignore the mess,” Piers mumbled, stepping over a pile of garbage bags that sat rather close to the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie attempted to move a few things as you tiptoed into the abode. You really didn’t want to step on anything that could be important, but it wasn’t exactly easy. It felt like walking through a minefield, except you can see stacks of mines all around you that are stupidly difficult to avoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, don’t worry. You weren’t expecting company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie must have muttered something conniving under her breath, because Piers sent her a sharp glare. She giggled before grabbing an arm’s full of clothes that had been perhaps laying out to dry along the back of a vinyl black couch, promptly stuffing them all into Piers’ hands. He huffed one more time before stumbling into what you assumed to be his bedroom, door shutting with more force than necessary behind him. Marnie rolled her eyes, turning to you and patting the couch. You obliged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry about your training session, today,” you decide to say. The girl briefly retreats into the kitchen/dining room behind you, where you can still see her behind a half-wall. “I didn’t mean to cut it so short.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. Piers would’a dragged me outta there kickin’ ‘n ‘screamin’, anyway, so it’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she returns, it’s with a red plastic cup of water. You accept it with a couple words of thanks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, um… You, uh… You gonna be doing the Gym Challenge this year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh. Well, if Piers doesn’t get his pants in a knot about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would he do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie huffed, slumping into the cushion next to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s convinced that I’m gonna get kidnapped or somethin’. Won’t ever let me do nothin’ on my own. He’s even rounded up half the bloody city just to follow me around the whole season!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’s just being a little protective of his baby sister,” you try to smile, but Marnie continues to mope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know the half of it. One time, he tried to take me to the emergency room ‘cause I scraped my knee during a battle. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the other day, he asked if I needed help with my hair. I’m thirteen years old! I don’t need him to do my hair - I buy my own tampons!” You can’t hold back the laugh on that one. Even Marnie lets herself chuckle, relaxing a bit more into the old sofa. “I get that he’s worried ‘bout me ‘n all, but… I kinda wanna live my own life, y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a sip of your drink. It’s lukewarm, and probably tap water, but it’s not the worst thing that’s been in your mouth (you try not to think about that, though). With Marnie ranting to you about her perhaps overbearing big brother, you get the sneaking suspicion that this girl is probably pretty lonely. It didn’t seem like there were any younger teens running around the area when you first arrived - then again, you weren’t really looking. You wondered if Marnie had any friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure that he means well. But… I think you deserve the chance to get out there. I remember when I was your age, when I first started my gym challenge. It’s a lot different back where I’m from, though - it’s a little harder to make money because being a trainer isn’t as idealized as it seems to be here, but me and my friend were crazy serious about it. It, uh… it was a good experience for me. Lots of good times, and plenty of bad times. But you look like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I think you’ll have a way easier time than I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie gave you a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl nodded, a thoughtful look settling onto her features as she passed a quick glance to her brother’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if I’m off ‘n doin’ my own thing, my bro’ll finally start leavin’ his room for once and get a life. Find things he likes other than just music ‘n battlin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Those words sound familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you laugh to yourself. You’re content to sit in the silence when Marnie shuffles a bit in her seat; you look over, catching just the tiniest hint of embarrassment on her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something wrong?” you ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie brushes her bangs away from her eyes just a bit, the other hand running along the metal of her choker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh… Not sure if he told you this, but… My brother said that if I followed him back home, you would give me some pointers. Y’know, for the gym challenge?” she looked off to the side, seeming adorably bashful out of nowhere. “B-but I’m willin’ to bet that he didn’t even ask you that. Probably why he’s up ‘n holed himself up in his room, so he doesn’t have to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not because he doesn’t like you or nothin’,” she quickly mentions. “He’s just… Well, I don’t know all that much about it, but I think me ‘n two others are the only girls he talks to. ‘N we hardly even count. He always gets all sorts of odd around people he thinks are cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s a bit of information you don’t know what to do with. Did his behavior earlier count as odd? Did he think you were cute? You didn’t even think yourself to be his type, but it seems like everyone in Galar has been throwing you for a loop, these days. Not to mention the fact that you’re actually a bit flustered at the idea of him liking you - don’t you have more important things to be worrying about here?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” was the most intelligent thing you could muster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie giggles a bit, gaining a bit more confidence to look over at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jus’ thought I’d let ya know. Otherwise he’ll take it to the grave. Trust me.” You manage a nod. Finally, Marnie takes a deep breath, leaning towards you just an inch. “Right then - is there anything you can tell me in order to be ready for the gym challenge this year? I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to become the next champion!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a smile slipped onto your face with ease. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally - something I’m qualified to talk about!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not so sure I can really be helpful, but I’ll mention a few things that helped me out when I did my challenge back home. You ready?” She nodded, a youthful look of serious determination of her round little face. So innocent, so sweet. “Always keep enough healing items in your bag. Not just for battles, but in case of an emergency. Make sure you bring some bandages and Neosporin for yourself, too; people forget that the trainer often gets more injured during gym challengers than any of the pokemon do. Always pick your battles wisely; while it’s brave and polite to accept a challenge, don’t risk your own safety or the safety of your pokemon just for some stupid rules. Train efficiently, and remember to take breaks. For battles, of course, always remember your type match-ups, since they can often determine the outcome of a battle before anybody calls an attack. Find that perfect balance of strict and loving with your team, as their power will only grow stronger with their love for you and can even help land critical hits or pull through status conditions. Don’t lose your head when you lose, and don’t lose yourself when you win. But most of all…” you give her a sly wink. “Don’t be afraid to show the world exactly the kind of champion Marnie from Spikemuth can be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes sparkled despite her lack of a smile, and she nodded enthusiastically at your words. Her little fists came up to her chest, an aura of determination emitting from her person even stronger than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’s time the world learned a thin’ or two - ‘n I’m gonna be the one showin’ ‘em. So… thanks. For believin’ in me, that is...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm smile falls onto your face. All the apprehensions from before quickly vanished as you patted her shoulder; such a good kid, just the kind of rival any trainer would be lucky to find. You open your mouth to say something more, but a loud rumble from outside cuts you off. You and Marnie share a confused look as the noise starts to increase. The girl mutters something under her breath as she jumps to her feet, boots clicking against the hardwood floor to guide her to one of the covered windows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers’ door opens, and he slips out into view with a groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me I’m just hearin’ things,” he said, quickly joining Marnie by the window. The two fall silent. You stare at them for a few seconds before joining the pair, only to see what it was that caught their attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That noise you heard was shouts of disdain and anger, all coming from the countless civilians that leaned out of their windows and squatted in the streets. Down the road that you had just walked through seemingly moments ago emerged a haunting familiar figure from the shadows, standing tall and strong even as people screamed for his head on a silver platter. Your heart stopped as you met those sharp amber eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leon frowned as he watched Piers quickly throw up the blinds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers. I saw you guys - I know she’s in there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh,” the musician’s voice shouted out from the otherside of the window, sounding probably a bit muffled but still audible. “Piers ain’t here right now. Leave a message after the beep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rolled his eyes, starting towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, Piers was shoving a protesting Marnie into her room. You attempted to collect yourself, but the sudden knock on the door quickly spiked up all the cortisol in your veins. Piers groaned, stomping to the door to open it. Leon shoved the gym leader aside, ignoring his fervent curses, and approached you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps backwards, hands up to your chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Get the fuck outta my house!” Piers shouted, pulling the champion back a few steps by his cape. “Take you and your bloody cape and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sod off</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just here for [Y/n]. The sooner she’s ready to go, the sooner I’ll leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers glanced at you, clearly pondering on whether or not he should kick you out. He clearly was hesitating, despite how cold he behaved earlier. But honestly, you didn’t know if you wanted to risk hiding here any longer, all things considered. Leon didn’t sound like he was willing to negotiate, and Piers was getting angrier with every second Leon remained in sight. For a moment, you wished you could just vanish entirely so nobody would fight anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re really gonna force a lady to do what you say? That’s low, even for the likes of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it sound like -” Leon rubbed his face, “whatever, I don’t have time for you right now. [Y/n], I promise I’m not going to hurt you, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You really don’t want to go, but, at the same time, you really don’t want to cause any more trouble for Piers or Marnie. He was kind enough to help you as much as he could, but now that Leon’s found you, there really was not much else he could do. Though the gym leader seemed down-right ready to beat the shit out of the champion, Leon looked entirely unfazed, instead staring patiently towards you. As much as you didn’t want to do it…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers shot his head toward you, clearly surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done enough for me,” you gave him a soft smile. “I really appreciate it. But I won’t cause any more trouble for you or your sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked a few times, but ultimately let go of Leon’s cape. The champion muttered a low thanks as he stepped closer to you, putting his hand around the nape of your neck as he gently piloted your body towards the door. Even though he was being remarkably gentle in his touch, you could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the power in his hands and it sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t know if that was good or bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought to look back to Piers, but decided against it. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his curious gaze on the two of you as you exited the bungalow. It wasn’t long before your forms were drenched in darkness, permanence known to exist only by the shouts and sneers of people who regarded the champion as a king blinded by his own glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers didn’t know how long he was standing there, staring down the street, but it was long enough for Marnie to eventually gain the courage to peek out from her room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she gonna be okay?” the girl questioned, her normally strong voice suddenly sounding so small and meek. It brought back memories for the musician.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope so,” the words slipped out faster than he could stop them. He sighed, ultimately shutting the door in front of him. He had a feeling he had a long night of shameful worrying ahead of him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys!</p><p>Just wanna say that we're almost at the end of Act One of this fic! Woo-hoo! Time flies when you're reading about peoples' agony regarding their life choices, huh? Friday's update will be something like the Season Finale, and then we'll start next week all fresh-faced to dig into the next act, where more, ahem, ~romance~ shall take place (as well as plot, can't forget that sweet delicious plot).</p><p>Just wanna thank you guys for reading and taking the time to offer your kudos and comments. Last chapter, I was getting comments up the wazoo, and it was SO AWESOME! I've never had such a well-performing story before, and it's all thanks to you guys for taking the leap of faith to read through this one. I want it to be the story I've imagined, of course, but I hope it's also a story that you all can continue to read happily.</p><p>So, please remember to comment your thoughts on today's update if you can, and I'll be seeing you guys on Friday for the (hopefully) interesting conclusion to the introductory segment of "Triple-Decker Whiplash"!</p><p>Thank you guys and see ya on Friday~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Kinda Like Putting Duct Tape on an Open Chest Wound, That's What This is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello~ and welcome to the Season Finale for Act 1 of "Triple-Decker Whiplash"!!!</p><p>Honestly, I'm kinda speechless! So I'll just say a quick universal "THANK YOU" to everyone reading - it's bc of you that this fic is growing the way it is!</p><p>Without any further ado, let's check up on our heroes...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Roy?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silence. A woman’s sigh can be heard down below.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Roy, I know you’re up there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>More silence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can see your shoelaces.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The child huffed, running his hands down to his scuffed up sneakers to stuff the dangling shoelaces into the mouth of the shoe. The woman chuckled to herself, stepping deeper underneath the tall, sprawling tree.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why’d you come out here?” he asked, resting his head against the trunk of the tree as he let one leg down to dangle off the branch. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing off the merchandise?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Roy, please. I know things are tough, now, but I’m sure that you’ll find your forever home soon enough.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, right. That’s what you said last year. And the year before that. And the year before that…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She brushed some of her long auburn hair from her face, trying to crane her neck up high enough to see the child’s face. Alas, he was much too high up; she could only really see the leg that dangled along the branch he resided. The woman noted that he would probably need yet another set of trousers, seeing as this pair was already looking much too short with the hem wrapped taut around his muscular shin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Many adults come in making the same mistake - always looking for a certain type of child. But if you go out there and just be yourself, someone is sure to see your many good traits. They’ll fall in love with you right away. I just know it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No matter how you put it, nobody’s interested in a kid like me,” the child couldn’t help but scoff. “Even the other kids think I’m a freak.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re not a freak, Roy. You’re just… unique.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m seven years old and I wear a size eight in men’s shoes, Ms. Rodes. I look like i’m already in middle school.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The woman gave a weak smile. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can’t receive good fortune if you don’t reach out for it. Nothing good ever comes through inaction. So… please. Join the rest of the kids. Play some games with the adults. Who knows - maybe your future family is out there right now, just waiting to get you that pokemon partner you’re always telling me about.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy couldn’t fight the hope that blossomed into his heart. At the mention of pokemon, he let his mind race over all of his favorite species, dreaming of the day he could finally call himself a pokemon trainer. But that day could never happen so long as he was drifting from shitty family to shitty family. No, he needed the commitment - adoption was the only way he could finally become the person he longed to be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With a slight hum of approval, the boy swung down from the upper branches of the tree, landing in a plume of dust before the woman. Though Ms. Rodes wasn’t exactly a vertically gifted woman, she stood completely level with the seven-year-old boy. Nobody was denying the fact that he was going to be a </span>
  </em>
  <span>big boy</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I get adopted,” he smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “I promise you, I’ll become a pokemon trainer, and I’ll send you giant checks so you can buy yourself lots of fancy stuff. You know, as thanks for really super nice up all the time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ms. Rodes smiled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s very sweet of you, Roy, but you don’t have to do that for me.” She looked behind her, seeing kids running around the rest of the park with some aspiring parents in tow. Everyone looked so hopeful, so desperate for that pure sort of connection between one another. “I think I’d rather the money go to the kids. I think that would make me the most happy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy nodded. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea, either.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay. It’s a deal.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan woke up suddenly, the sound of his own heavy breathing having startled him awake. The mild sunlight that oozed in from the windows burned into his throbbing eyes, pulling a groan from the gym leader. At the far corner of the bed, Flygon let out a low buzz, most likely still asleep as he wiggled a little closer to his trainer’s feet. The man noticed a lack of pillows by his face, figuring that they were most likely in the possession of a certain ground-dragon-type.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Haven’t had that dream in a while</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he rubbed his eyes, trying to will away his headache from the day before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But it does remind me…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rotom,” he croaked out, voice full of phlegm. He cleared his throat a bit as his Rotomphone buzzed to life, swirling up and into his view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bzzt, you called?” the creature sang out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me to send that donation later today - hm, let’s say around four o’clock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The device did a little spin in the air as it processed the request.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bzzt, alright! Reminder set!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan muttered a thanks and rolled onto his side, hiding his face into his blue satin pillow. As much as he longed to stay in bed just a little longer, he knew he wouldn’t receive good fortune through inaction. After a few moments of steady breathing, the dragon tamer pushed himself upright and did a little stretch. Flygon flicked his tail in protest. That dragon loved his sleep. But Raihan was already on his feet, running a hand through his dreads as he rummaged through a drawer in hopes of finding a bottle of Excedrin. His efforts were fruitful - he hurriedly downed three tablets, not bothering with getting some water, before grabbing some fresh street clothes and making his way to the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once his trainer was out of sight, Flygon gave a little yawn and let his body stretch out all across the giant bed. Raihan leaned back, giving the dragon a smug grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get too comfy, there - we’ve got some errands to run early today before we go hunting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon tweeted angrily, flicking its giant tail back and forth along the surface of the huge bed, messing up the once relatively neat satin covers. Raihan laughed, disappearing down the hall before he could see what other terrible damage the dragon would cause during his little tantrum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a Saturday, which was technically your day off. Technically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t have to run through paperwork in your office, or request police reports regarding suspicious situations, or run to a meeting in Wyndon, or any of that. No, in the most technical sense, you were free to do as you pleased, more or less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet here you were, clad in your weekday uniform in the middle of your oven-like stadium, deliberating on the best way to flee the region without anyone knowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon had woken you up as soon as the clock struck eight in the morning, knocking on your door like the world was ending. How he found your apartment without your help, you didn’t even want to think about. As he rushed you through your morning routine, you briefly longed for the two seconds of jovial camaraderie you both shared when you first officially met. You wondered which was the true Leon: the super sweet, super cheeky man with terrible geospatial understanding and even worse fashion sense, </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> the painfully condescending and quite understandably petrifying authoritarian? You supposed you would find out soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He commanded you to prepare Arcanine, and you did as he asked. Your ace pokemon was (understandably) wary of Leon, at this point, occasionally growling if the man got a bit too close. And while Leon didn’t exactly apologize or act any less strict with you, you couldn’t help but notice he kept his distance. Maybe it was because he wanted you both to be a bit more comfortable? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooorr</span>
  </em>
  <span>, maybe it was because he really just didn’t want to deal with it and actually resented you vehemently. Either way, you appreciated the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been training with Raihan in hopes of regaining your ability to use battle enhancers,” he finally spoke, crossing his arms as he stood a few feet away from you at the center of the field. “Am I correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lying didn’t exactly seem like a good idea. Not that you particularly liked lying, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right. I… I physically can’t use them. It doesn’t just hurt me, but it hurts my pokemon, too. I can’t keep trying to use it if Arcanine feels pain every single time. That isn’t right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon sighed. “No, it’s not. But, unfortunately, we don’t have a choice. You have to Dynamax for the Gym Challenge. The chairman has made it abundantly clear that anything less than a successful demonstration of battle enhancement during your matches is unacceptable. Though, I’m sure that Raihan has reiterated that to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wince at the name of the dragon tamer. You had neglected to reach out to Raihan after Leon dropped you off at your apartment the other night. A part of you worried that something terrible had become of him, but earlier in the day Leon had mentioned something about having to deal with Raihan’s nagging later on. At least you could assume that he was okay, more or less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... He mentioned that, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else did he mention?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t know how, you don’t know why, but you dare to look him in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He told me that he hopes you’re not the bad guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon is silent for a moment. You have half the mind to fall into panic before Leon suddenly lets out a half-hearted chuckle, looking wistfully off to the side for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t blame him. I didn’t exactly help my case yesterday, that’s for sure.” He pauses, perhaps waiting for you to say something. When you don’t, he lets out a sigh. “I don’t want you to think that I’m against you. So long as you protect and honor the values of this region, then we will always be on the same side. But you have to understand that… that there is a lot at stake, here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna get kicked out of the league?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes darkened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt your heart drop. With the gravity of those words, you knew exactly what he meant.67</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t be fucking serious. Because I won’t use a stupid battle enhancer?! Are you seriously telling me I’m gonna get whacked -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shh</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” he raised his hands. “Quit shouting!” You rubbed your arms, trying in vain to calm yourself down. “Please understand - the league already deals with issues coming from people who don’t agree in the use of battle enhancers like Dynamax. It’s bad enough that Piers doesn’t do it. We can’t risk </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> gym leaders refusing to use it, especially when one already lives on a major Power Spot. The media would have a field day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what we’re supposed to be worried about here? A tiny little controversy? Leon, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>the dumbest thing anyone’s ever told me. And I’ve been told some pretty dumb shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell that to the chairman, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frowned, looking deeper into his eyes. Dark, golden swirls of color that seem so different from their bright and sparkly counterparts constantly displayed on your television screen. If only you could define the emotion behind them; maybe then you’d figure out this guy’s deal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to scare you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- Yet you keep doing it -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- </span>
  <em>
    <span>But</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m trying to help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you have a funny way of showing it,” you can’t help but spit at him. He just clicked his tongue. “Why don’t I just resign and call it a day? That way, Rose can grab another star-trainer who Dynamaxes with no issue and everyone’s happy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. The competitors might forget, but the media won’t. Not only will even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> questions arise for the league to answer, but you’ll be constantly bombarded with reporters dying to know the true reasons behind such a short run. And we can’t risk someone digging deeper into things that don’t concern them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You purse your lips a bit at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...And what is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon is quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a hesitant step forward, keeping your eyes fixed on him with the best replica of that dark expression on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s really going on here, Leon? How do any of the league’s dirty secrets relate to me </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I’m not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>from</span>
  </em>
  <span> here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I can’t tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t - Leon, you can’t keep boasting that you’re on the side of the Galarian people if you’re hiding things from them. What kind of champion does that make you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The kind that remains.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what this is about?” you growl, marching right up to him with a finger to his chest. All of your precision and delicate wording is out the window - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> this guy. “You’re total Ponyta-shit! You’ve got everyone thinking that you’re an innocent hero when in reality you’ve got dirt on your hands, too. Are you really just doing all this to save your own ass? Fight your supposed ‘best friend’? Threaten my goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut the fuck up, I’m not fucking done</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He leans back at that, visibly shocked. “You don’t give a shit about anybody but yourself. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about Galar. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about your people. All you honor at the end of the day is your own, fabricated reflection in the mirror.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My family,” Leon suddenly blurts out. You give him a curious look, but refuse to move an inch. Leon takes a moment to collect his thoughts before ultimately sighing. Suddenly, he doesn’t look so menacing. Just… tired. “Rose, he… He’s using my family against me, alright? Is that what you wanted to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a step back, scanning his face. For once, something’s there - the mask has cracked a bit, and there you can see hints of truth in his sentiment in the way his eyes glimmer with a pain you knew very well. The pain of realizing all your strength is useless, the hurt of being helpless to stop the clock. Not even the best actor can feign that kind of face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon lifted his cap up, running his other hand through the waves of wild purple hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if he leaves them alone, I can’t lose my rank. I can’t let my family go back to rationing cans of beans and rice, or walk two miles down the way to fill up a gallon of water just to have something safe to drink. I can’t look my brother in the eyes, knowing he’s been living the life I dreamed of only to go right back to the poverty I fought my ass off to escape. No matter what, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep going - even if I get my hands dirty. If it means my loved ones are happy and well, I’ll play whatever sort of game Rose wants to play. You can understand that, can’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t. You knew what it was like having nothing but cheap rice and water for months on end. Your father becoming a gym leader eventually saved your family from that torment. You couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of life Leon had lived before he became the man who stood before you here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But did his family really outweigh the lives of other innocent people?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion in his body becoming more visible by the moment. Once so strong and youthful, the champion looked as though he hadn’t slept well in ages. You wondered what kept him up at night. Your guard rose back up when he suddenly reached into his back pocket and offered a closed fist to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t expect you to trust me yet. Well, I won’t expect you to trust me at all. But please don’t picture me as someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> to cause harm. I don’t want to hurt you. So… I hope you will accept my final offer of assistance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks so earnest, eyes glimmering brilliantly in the sunlight, suddenly becoming an entirely different person from moments ago. Though he was hardly as bright-eyed and childish as he was when you first met him, he wasn’t as dark and menacing as he was before, either. No, this was a different Leon, one who had so much emotion emanating from his body that it threatened to overflow inside you at a moment’s notice. He patiently watched as you glanced between his hand and his eyes, not moving an inch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t sure who Leon really was. Then again, you were beginning to wonder if anyone really did. You placed your fingertips as gingerly as possible on his knuckles, encouraging his hand to blossom open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held a bright gold-dyed wristband, a little red stone twinkling ever so slightly from within the fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A Dynamax band?” you questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a prototype band,” his voice was oddly soft, low and hush. “It was designed entirely by Macro Cosmos, more notably by Oleana, herself. Project V-Star. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vivamax</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivamax?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon nodded. “That’s right. Unlike other wishing stars, this rock is entirely man-made, but manages to replicate the effects of Dynamax. It amps up twice as much potential energy as a typical Dynamax storm, and seems to work even without a bond between trainer and pokemon, without a wish residing in someone’s heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart skipped a bit. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seems to work without a bond…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> You shook your head before the mistiness of your eyes overwhelmed you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think this will work for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the theory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reach down to take the band, only to pause when he doesn’t let go right away. You look up at his eyes just in time to see a hint of what may be concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to warn you, though. This is a prototype. Only a handful of experiments have been performed, all of them in top secret. This is a last resort, just a temporary fix until we can get to the root of your problem. I don’t think it’s a good idea to use this any more than you have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme guess - there’s serious drawbacks to using it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“VMax is incredibly volatile. While it’s considerably more powerful than Dynamax or Gigantamax, it’s less durable and won’t last for long. A few subjects were also known to lose control while using it. There’s no special connection made between trainer and pokemon, and thus leads to massive amounts of energy channeling into both parties with no reliable flow to expel said energy in a reliably safe manner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that means…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon lowered his chin a bit, body tensing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In other words, your pokemon could go rogue, and you could die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blinked a few times. And then a few more times. Hey, maybe a few more. All the while, Leon stared at you with that strange expression on his face, hair cradling his cheeks and chin in the most picturesque of ways. On later inspection of the memory, you would probably blush at how remarkably beautiful he was right there. Oh well. Too bad you were too busy processing all </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> information to really notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, you just end up shrugging as you tug the band from his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I’ve done dumber stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” You ignored him, switching your white band for the newer golden one, purposefully inspecting it closely on your wrist rather than see Leon gaping his mouth at your remark. “What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Means I’ve done dumber stuff,” you reiterate, giving him a plain expression. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve got any better options. I can’t exactly be picky, right now, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even when it comes to your life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Especially when it comes to my life. But I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>trusting</span>
  </em>
  <span> you on this - I don’t know why I am -  what’s your plan if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> end up losing control and Arcanine goes on a rampage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon attempts to brush some hair from his shoulder. How it ended up there in the first place, you couldn’t recall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a small team of MC scientists on this project. If things get too dangerous for the crowds, they have ways to calm Arcanine down. No harm will come to him - just a few Gyarados darts and it’ll end the effects just like if it ran out of energy. No-one will be any the wiser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced back at your partner. He seemed to have been listening intently to this conversation, his eyes focused on Leon’s face. He didn’t seem nervous - in fact, you might even reckon that he was interested in the man’s words. Dare you say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>determined</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wanted to try just as much as you did, and you were thankful for that. You didn’t want to think about how much it would kill you if you had to force this on him. But Arcanine understood the consequences of your actions and </span>
  <em>
    <span>inactions</span>
  </em>
  <span> just as much as you did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure about this, Arcanine?” you still decided to ask. “Could be dangerous. I won’t force it on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a large, proud </span>
  <em>
    <span>BORF</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well, uh, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounds</span>
  </em>
  <span> cooler in person. Doesn’t sound as awesome when written down. Just trust me on this one, mate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave the canine your best smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll do this together, you and me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes were so transfixed on Arcanine’s determined stance that you completely failed to realize how Leon was looking at you. Before him stood someone unaccepting of failure, someone who was willing to push their body to the absolute limit. Someone unafraid of a little risk, of a little death. Maybe it was a little foolish, but he couldn’t help but slip a little deeper into that burning fire in your eyes. It was small, yes, but it was still there, far brighter than any other flame he’d seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what a brilliant flame it was.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~ END OF ACT ONE ~</p><p> </p><p>Oooo, supaishiiiii!!! The groundwork is set, and now we have entered the realm of actual plot! We will go into Act 2 with quite a few questions: How will Reader make it through the gym season? Is Leon really the good guy or the bad guy? What about Raihan's mysterious origins? WHEN WILL WE SEE PIERS AGAIN?!?!</p><p>All these answers (and more) to come - I do hope you'll enjoy the ride, just remember to mind the whiplash ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Such Innocence! What Grace! I Wanna Pinch His Baby Face!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>~ ACT TWO ~</p><p>Welcome to Season 2 of "Triple-Decker Whiplash"! Thank you guys so much for keeping up with the story - it really means SO much to me seeing (reading?) all your reactions to each update. So if you've got thoughts, theories, compliments, constructive criticism, I'm totally down to hear it all! This story has become kind of a passion project for me, so I want to make sure that others enjoy it just as much as I do.</p><p>Okay, okay, enough with the stalling - without further ado, let's see how Reader begins her very first gym challenge season as the Motostoke gym leader...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A heavy sigh of relief ran through your chest and out your mouth as you slid down the lockers to the floor. Most of the other gym leaders were still doing interviews and signings, but you managed to use their greater levels of popularity to escape the torture. Yeah, you may have a little bit of a gift when it comes to small group conversation, but when it comes to at least twenty people shouting questions at you like its ammunition, you couldn’t handle it. Not to mention that these people literally knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> about personal space. You groaned at the thought of having to go back out there again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, alas, you had to get up to go outside eventually. So it might as well be now. You stood to your feet and scuttled across the fancy white tile, throwing open the door only to bump into someone. Well, a pair of someones. You stumbled backwards, but a few extra sets of hands grabbed your arms and pulled you back upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoops! Sorry, mate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You steady yourself, looking over at the two kids standing before you. They were obviously gym challengers, despite having changed back into their everyday clothes. Though one kid was entirely unfamiliar to you with that curious expression on his face, the other one was shockingly familiar. You probably would have thought it was Leon, but if Leon had suddenly gone back in time and shrank a few inches. Also, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the baby face</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Oh Arceus, never once in your life had you been so tempted to pinch a teenager’s cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, it’s alright - don’t sweat it,” you gave them a reassuring grin. “Though, I don’t think challengers are allowed in the gym leader locker room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fair-skinned boy glanced to the Almost-Leon-Lookalike, who was attempting to discreetly peek around you and into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, sorry! We were just looking for Lee. Is he around here somewhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, duh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you smiled fondly at the boy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Leon has a little brother that he endorsed. Wait… did he just call him ‘Lee’? Oh my Arceus, that’s adorable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lee?” you repeated, trying desperately not to laugh. You would definitely be using that as ammunition against the champion if you managed to work up the courage to try. “Um, I don’t think Leon’s in here at the moment. He’s not outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy threw his head back with a groan, inciting light laughter from his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I’d bet my entire life savings that he took two steps outside and got lost! He can’t go anywhere by himself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I’m told,” you gave him a little grin. The boys sighed in harmony, looking a little disappointed. Oh, that definitely won’t do. “Tell you what - I’ll help you guys find him. He can’t be too hard to find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The champion’s younger brother scoffed at that, only to be elbowed by his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean - yeah! That sounds ace! Thank you very much!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” you beam, gently guiding the two boys down the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These boys were definitely adorable in every sense of the word, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they were a handful. The champion’s younger brother, who revealed his name to be Hop (peculiar, but no less adorable), was talking a mile a minute, dumping out so much information about pokemon and battling and his brother - none of which you could really process or understand. The other boy, eh… He was a little, um, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sketch.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This boy - Victor, Hop eventually revealed - seemed entirely unassuming at first glance. He was mostly quiet, walking with a gentle smile as he kept close to his bombastic friend. Occasionally he would chime into the conversation, letting out no more than a handful of words at a time before Hop quickly filled the air once again. But that wasn’t what bothered you. No - it wasn’t until you were walking through the streets of Motostoke, where the crowds of people were particularly dense due to the opening ceremony having ended only thirty minutes before, where you realized something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever so slightly </span>
  </em>
  <span>amiss with this boy. On the occasion, someone would bump into him, and he’d voice a happy apology before continuing on. People would curse him for not watching where he was going, but he’d just smile and move on. However, if someone bumped into and so much as looked funny at Hop… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Arceus, if murder had a face, it would be this boy’s.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The once relaxed and sweet-looking Victor would suddenly snap his head to glare at the stranger, eyes holding nothing but venom as his gentle smile cracked into a cold frown. Hop didn’t seem to notice, or maybe was just used to it, as he would stutter an apology and continue on forward. Then Victor was back to sugar and gumdrops. You made a mental note </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to mess with Hop when Victor was around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lee jumped off of Charizard and landed right on the Gyarados’ back from ten feet in the air! It was mad strong, but Lee’s way stronger. He held on with all his might, and the Gyarados was getting madder and madder by the second. Then, it dove in under the water! Sonia thought that Lee was done for, but he proved her wrong. Next thing they know, the Gyarados is totally calm, and Lee’s swimming back onto the shore and strikes his Charizard pose! It was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t that the time Leon had to go to the hospital because he knocked his knockers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You damn near choked on your spit. Neither boy saw your incredulous expression. Hop looked up with a thoughtful expression, trying to remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I think that was the time Piers dared him to jump from the top of Rose Tower onto Charizard’s back. Same year, though, so you’re not too far off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor shrugged, pulling his giant trunk of a backpack a little higher on his shoulders. You all had been walking for a good while, but still no sight or sound of Leon. How hard was it to find a six-foot-tall, purple-haired, red-cape-wearing dude?! Hop suddenly gasped, pointing off to the far left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HEY, THERE HE IS! LEEEEEEEEE!!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop charged off, sparking some cheery laughter from Victor when he chased after his friend. You jogged after them. Sure enough, there was Leon, standing innocently in front of a  high-end clothing shop. You wondered why this man even bothers to look - who allows him to dress the way he does? They definitely deserve to be fired and probably socially exiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey, boys!” Leon cheered, his cheeky smile seeming a little strange to you now after all this time. “I thought you two would be off training by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We wanted you to ref our battle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t I ref </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your battles already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Hop blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But that was back home. I’ve gotten a whole lot stronger since then! It’ll give us both an idea on what to work on before we take on the first gym.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rubbing his chin, eyes flitting up to the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, well, I suppose…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll do it?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older brother gave a blinding grin, leaning forward a bit to ruffle his brother’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two teens cheered, immediately opting to drag Leon down the street and towards the Wild Area. You watched for a few minutes before Hop suddenly spun around, waving his free hand at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you waiting for? You’re coming too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon looked over his shoulder to glance at you. You had a feeling he didn’t even realize that you were there the whole time. With a faint smile on your face, you nodded, rushing forward to catch up with the trio. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Getting a little ballsy this year, I see?” Raihan’s voice suddenly rang through the receiver. Piers frowned, leaning back into the cushions of his couch as he reached out for the bottle of vodka on the ground by his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just answer the question,” he sighed, pausing only to down as much of the alcohol as he could handle in one swig. “Did she make it back to her hotel room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Checked in just a few minutes ago. All safe and sound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers let out a small sigh of relief. It was still too early to be comfortable, but he had to admit that he was worried that something terrible would become of his sister during the opening ceremony. Rose was right there, after all, thousands of his lackeys crawling on the premises. It would’ve been easy for him to make a move against the gym leader. But thankfully, Team Yell seemed to be proving useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I will say, it might have been easier to just go there and keep an eye on her yourself. Even Leon’s got his brother on a tight leash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course he does. But Leon’s also the bloody champion. Like hell am I gonna be near the chairman or that bitch, Oleana, anymore than I already have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan whistles, no doubt wearing an amused expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa there - did you just call a woman a derogatory word? Tsk, tsk - I oughta tell Marnie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sod off, would ya?! Fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> that lady. Can’t wait for the day she finally snaps and punches me. Then I’d have an excuse to hit her back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I don’t relate to that on a spiritual level, Piers, but I’m too busy trying to imagine you hitting a lady. It’s not really working out very well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The musician grumbled, downing another mindless sip of booze. Raihan did have a point - it wouldn’t be the first time Piers had a sound reason to fight back against a beautiful woman, only to clam up and walk away under the guise of wanting to be the bigger person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll punch</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> if ya don’t shut your fuckin’ trap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d have to leave the city to do that, first.” Piers opened his mouth to send off another expletive, but Raihan cut him off. “Oh, hey, look at the time. I’ve got a meeting to sit through - but I’ll keep my eyes open for your sister. Never fear - the great Raihan is on the case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers groaned. “Whatever. Thanks, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two exchanged their farewells, and the call ended no later. Piers tossed the device onto the cushion next to him. He took one more long drink, already feeling his mind start to fog up and carry his apprehensions away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you sweet, innocent little </span>
  <em>
    <span>BABY</span>
  </em>
  <span>!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wooloo gave a hearty little </span>
  <em>
    <span>baa</span>
  </em>
  <span>, more than happy to let you mush and rub and scratch his cute little face. Hop watched you with a shy smile, scratching his reddened cheeks as you cooed at the fluffy beast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s kind of a cuddler, so fair warning if he starts mushing up a storm,” the boy laughed as he gave Wooloo a good pat on the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to his trainer’s words, Wooloo immediately starts pushing at your hands, trying to push his body as close to yours as possible. This sparks a sea of giggles from your mouth as you fight to keep upright, only to eventually fall on your rump as the fluffy boy rolls onto your chest. Hop looks embarrassed for a moment, but you wave him away before he can pick up the Wooloo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please - this is the greatest moment of my life,” you manage to huff out, running your fingers through the surprisingly soft wool. You can see Victor laughing in the background, Leon watching the entire scene with a puzzled grin on his face. Hop nods, kneeling down beside you to join in on giving Wooloo all the sweet lovings he deserves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you like Wooloo, too, huh?” the boy shyly questions, peering over his partner to see your face better. You nod vivaciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> darn cute! I always thought they were super shy, so meeting this little guy was a pleasant surprise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. But actually, Wooloo </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> shy, most of the time. But not my partner - he’s super friendly! We found him when I was a little kid, and Lee ended up helping me catch him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon chuckled somewhere you couldn’t see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you tried to sneak back with me to Wyndon by hiding in my bag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would’a worked, too, if Charizard hadn’t ratted me out,” the boy huffed, leaning back on his hands. “But I met Wooloo at the end of it, so it was a win-win!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wooloo </span>
  <em>
    <span>baa</span>
  </em>
  <span>’d again, giant yellow eyes sparkling as if remembering the event fondly. You scratched his chin. You could see Hop looking up to the sky, no doubt having stars in his own eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me and Wooloo are gonna make it all the way to the top, together. Just you guys watch! We’ll crash through every gym that dares to stand in our way, and then we’ll face Lee and I’ll become the next great, unbeatable champion of Galar!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those are some big dreams, there, kid,” you can’t help but smile, “but you’ll have to beat some of the toughest trainers in the region if you wanna make it that far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the plan! I’ll show you guys just how tough I am - you’ll see when I finally go to challenge you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You briefly wonder what sort of expression Leon is wearing right then, listening to his brother voice such high aspirations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t wait to battle you. In the meantime, I’ll be cheering you on - both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop looks over at Victor, the two of them sharing an excited smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You hear that, Victor? That means you, too. Let’s both make it to the semifinals. There, I know I’ll beat you fair and square! It’ll be the perfect chapter in my amazing legend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course it will, Hop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the boys laughed, you couldn’t help but think of those dog days back in Hoenn - you too used to have someone who pulled and pushed you along your journey. Someone you wanted to experience everything with. Your smile faltered, but the boys couldn’t see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon did.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. You Ever Go to the Beach and Not Swim and Still Get Sand in Your Pants? Like, WTF is Up With That Shit?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You didn’t have much downtime now, with the gym challenge in full throttle. You kept yourself pretty busy acting as a guide for challengers around the city, offering kind tips and tricks as they navigated the first stage of the competition. On the occasion, you would head to the Wild Area to train, but also to keep your eyes open for any suspicious activity or dangerous situations. Thankfully, there seemed to be a good amount of rangers on duty there, many of which making sure to keep in touch with you just in case they needed more assistance. There definitely was more adult supervision here than there was during your gym challenge back home. It was kinda wild to think about: just a bunch of ten-year-olds wandering around the middle of nowhere all day long, with only a handful of pokemon to their name and a naivety that could light the sun. You can’t believe how that actually worked for several years before the age restriction was raised a few pegs in several different regions. The reason? Kids were getting hurt, some worse than others. Sometimes, it wasn’t even pokemon to blame - it was adults, fellow humans doing more harm to a child than a pokemon ever could. It made you sick to your stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this particular moment in time, you were strolling along the side of East Lake Axewell, Arcanine keeping close behind you. You really didn’t want to wander too far into the Wild Area - you would rather not have to sleep outside, seeing as you didn’t bring any camping supplies. So, you hung close to the lake, making sure to keep the gates into Motostoke in your line of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was remarkably peaceful. The reflection of the sun’s rays glinting against the gentle waves of the lake, the sounds of flying-types fluttering above the trees in a peculiar harmonic scale, the calming breeze that rushed your shoulders with the tenderness of a compassionate lover. It all gave you a somber sort of peace. You slowed to a halt, finding yourself completely absorbed in the still beauty that was Lake Axewell. So absorbed, in fact, that you failed to see Arcanine begin to growl towards the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he let out a bark, you glanced at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wro -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were suddenly blasted off your feet, slamming hard on your side once you made contact with the ground once again. Arcanine was suddenly standing in front of you, battle-ready in a defensive stance as he glared at the aggressor. You pushed yourself up, ignoring the pain in your left arm in favor of getting a grip on the situation. Much to your surprise, there hovered a particularly pissed off Flygon, making the loudest hissing noise you’d ever heard from a pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine, Fire Blast!” you commanded, and your pokemon obeyed. Arcanine was definitely one of your fastest pokemon on hand, but this Flygon was no joke. It spiraled upwards just as the blast of heat flashed towards it, taking a sudden nose dive towards you and your pokemon with remarkable determination. Mystical blue energy began to manifest around its body. “Shit - Arcanine, dodge it with Extreme Speed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine was gone in a blast, barely dodging the Dragon Rush just in time. The Flygon didn’t seem fazed, however - it made a hard turn before it crashed into the ground as Arcanine began to circle around. Much to your surprise, though, the dragon didn’t turn back towards your pokemon. No, it was making another mad dash towards </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your arms instinctively rise in an attempt to protect your face, but a loud blast sends a sudden wave of dust and sand all over you. You’re pushed backwards a bit by the mild explosion, stumbling over some of the rocks all around as you attempted to get your bearings. Sand is practically everywhere now, hitting your face and slapping your exposed skin - you try to open your eyes, only to squeeze them closed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A sandstorm?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You keep your arms over your face in an attempt to keep the sand from your eyes, nose, and mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine? Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>brruff</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the distance answers your question. You attempt to take a few steps forward when suddenly you feel something wrap around your waist. You squeak as you’re suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, immediately dragged backwards. All attempts to squiggle free are fruitless - whoever or </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> has you has a seriously strong grip. You’re clawing at the arm with your eyes squeezed shut, kicking your legs in the air as you’re dragged away from the chaos. The thought finally crosses your mind to let out a scream when you realize that there’s no more sand hitting your face, and you’re being released. You dare to open your eyes and spin around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raihan?!” you shout, slapping his chest as he laughs at you. “What - </span>
  <em>
    <span>why are you laughing that wasn’t funny!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was kinda funny,” he shrugged. “But don’t you move - I’ve got it from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you could think to stop him, the man rushes back into the sandstorm, his mad laughter mixing in with the sounds of battle. You blinked a few times in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on. Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was, you supposed that Raihan was trying to solve the commotion in some way or another. You patiently remain there, dusting off all the sand that ended up in places sand </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely does not belong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How it even got there when you were in that sandstorm for quite possibly thirty seconds was beyond you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much to your surprise, the battle didn’t last much longer. The sandstorm subsided, revealing a grinning Raihan and his equally-as-proud Flygon, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>separate</span>
  </em>
  <span> and unconscious Flygon, and your rather frazzled-looking Arcanine way in the background. You approach the man with a shake of the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to explain what all that was?” you cross your arms, sinking into one hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was doing my little patrol around the Dusty Bowl when I ran into this little sweetheart over here,” he gestured to the definitely-not-so-little sweetheart over on the ground. “Turns out, she’d been causing some problems for rangers in the area, so they thought that she was just being territorial. I went over to investigate, and I guess she really didn’t like that, so she split and I followed. Been kinda doing hit-and-runs on everyone she sees for the past hour and a half. But thanks to you, I finally managed to catch up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glance over at the creature, seeing it’s round stomach slowly rising and falling. It would be okay, if a bit lethargic when it eventually wakes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So she was just being territorial?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan sighed, looking back at the dragon in kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind of. When I was over in the Dusty Bowl, though, I think I ran into her nest. Or, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be her nest. I think she lost a whole clutch of her eggs. None of them were healthy enough to make it. I think she was really upset, and just kinda lashed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now you felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad. Even Arcanine offered a sorrowful whine in the dragon’s direction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Poor thing. She lost her babies.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Raihan gave you a soft smile, giving your shoulder a quick pat on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, though. I’ll be taking her to the Center, and they’ll give her a quick little check-up. Things like this happen a lot, in the wild, so don’t feel so bad. They’ll patch her up, give her some medicine, and she’ll be good as new. Hopefully in a few years, she’ll be ready for another clutch and they’ll be great little survivors, just like their mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. Raihan summons his Rotomphone and makes a quick call, no doubt asking for a team to come out and help him take the Flygon back into town. In the meantime, Raihan’s Flygon waddles up to you, chirping happily as he nuzzles your hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, buddy,” you smile, watching as he happily nipped at your fingers. “Thanks for saving me, there. I really appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon chirped happily, fluttering his wings in such a way that it sounded like someone singing. The creature stood up on his hind legs, placing his claws on your shoulders as he wrapped his long neck around your own. Your heart swelled as the creature let out a deep rumbling purr from within his chest, vibrating through your entire body. You patted his back as Flygon let out several more happy chirps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Raihan turned around, he gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flygon?! I walk away for </span>
  <em>
    <span>two seconds</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what you’re doing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature flicked his tail at the trainer. You stifled some laughter as Raihan pouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flygon, get down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More angry tail flicks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Flygon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, buddy, that’s not how you treat a lady. Now, get off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature pulled you a little closer. His neck wrapped all around your own, you could see the dragon giving baby eyes to his trainer. Raihan approached the two of you, still frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know, you’re happy to see her - let’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’s probably busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really all that busy,” you mumble. Raihan shoots you a look and you can’t help but laugh. Flygon lets out what you assume to be a whine. “Does he do this often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly… Just people he really likes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh, and Flygon nuzzles a little closer to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t think I was a dragon’s type,” you joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan recovers and shoots a wink at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dragons know a princess when they see one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, thanks, Flygon. You’re a very sweet dragon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another deep purr rumbled into your person. For a few breaths, you stayed like that, with Flygon wrapped all around you and Raihan patiently watching. Eventually, though, you struggled to keep standing, and had to beg the dragon-type to release you from his grip. With a flick of the tail and a muted whine, Flygon complied, waddling back over to Raihan’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, now that I’ve saved you from the attacking dragon, what kind of reward does my princess have to offer me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoff. “Oh really? You scare me half to death and you want a reward?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, a suggestive smirk on his face as he bites his lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I’ll give you a reward, alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I guess you deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walk up to him. With careful precision, you place your hands on his chest, sliding them up slowly as you wrap your arms around his neck. Raihan’s got a wicked grin on his face, leaning forward just a bit as he places his hands on your waist. You push yourself up to your toes just a bit, already feeling his breath against your face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just a little closer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you tell yourself, watching him slowly begin to shut his eyes…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...And you grab a fistful of his hood and pull it up harshly over his face, pulling him sharply downwards by the head. The dragon tamer stumbled into you, but you pushed his chest with all your might, watching him lose all his balance and land with a heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>“OOFFUCK”</span>
  </em>
  <span> on his ass. You burst into laughter, hurriedly running over to Arcanine as Raihan pulls his hood off to shoot you a wildly flabbergasted face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” you call out as you hop on top of Arcanine, “plenty more princesses in the world that you’re off to rescue, I’m sure!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, you raced off, making your way towards Motostoke. Flygon chirped happily, passing a knowing glance at his trainer. Sure enough, Raihan had a hand over his mouth, unable to tear his eyes away from your retreating form. The dragon tamer was right - dragons knew a princess when they saw one. And dragons </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> loved princesses. Flygon slapped Raihan in the back with his tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ow</span>
  </em>
  <span> - what the hell was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> for?!” Raihan hissed. There was no venom in his words, though. Flygon gave him a loud trill. “I was just playing around.” Another slap. “Cut it out!” Flygon rested his head on the dragon tamer’s shoulder, giving a loud buzzing hum as he gave his trainer a sad look. Raihan looked away. “... You know that it’s not a good idea. I know you like her and all, but… It’s not gonna work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the creature can try again, Raihan pushes himself up, making his way towards the unconscious pokemon that still slept so soundly on the sand. As bad as he felt having to knock her out, he knew that letting that sort of rage go unchecked would only spell trouble for everything around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To lose something you loved so desperately was a terrible feeling.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one goes out to all my Raihan stans out there~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. This Does Not Spark Joy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! Sorry I'm a little late - I read through this chapter before uploading and realized there was some bullshit that needed some serious correcting, lolol! But HOPEFULLY I caught most of it, haha. Anyways, remember to comment afterwards bc I love that shit and I hope you guys enjoy today's update!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Because you were the first segment of the gym challenge, you would be facing a pretty big group of challengers pretty early on. And because this year did break its previous record in the amount of gym challengers - damn near two hundred kids, all notable up-and-coming trainers - you would probably have a full schedule of ten matches per day for a little while. But you loved battling, so having so many bright-eyed kids try their hand at defeating you filled you with a joy you worried had been lost to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that joy probably would have remained if you weren’t forced to do literally the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst fucking thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the entire universe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first battle was upon you all, the camera crew prepping their equipment as you were meeting the first set of trainers for the day. You didn’t recognize any of the names (to be honest, you kind of zoned out during the opening ceremony - you only really knew about Victor, Hop, and Marnie because you happened to already know them), but you were confident that they would be great trainers if they made it passed Milo and Nessa. In honor of your mentor, you kept the gym the same, more than happy to rent some fire-type pokemon from a nearby nursery to help with their socialization. You gave a quick briefing to your crew of trainers, three volunteers who specialized in fire-type pokemon, and made your way to greet the first kid on the list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was pretty cool, actually. Just a regular kid who was more than excited to show off what he knew, his rambunctious little Yamper running happily at its trainer’s side. You wished him luck, and watched him progress through the “puzzle” section of your gym (why gyms always insisted on these puzzles was a mystery, though it might just be a nod to the original gym challenge style found in Kanto, the birthplace of modern competitive battling). It wasn’t long before you both were on the field, smiling in front of the cameras and the loyal Motostoke audience in the morning heat of summer. You gave him a good little pep talk, wished him luck, and prepared for battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went well, at first. That Yamper meant business, taking down your Flareon surprisingly fast. But it definitely wasn’t prepared to be poisoned by Salazzle, and fell within a few turns. Out came a Pikachu, who was equally as excitable as its ally. The two clashed for a good while, making for excellent battle footage and rumbling up the crowd. Salazzle ended up fainting, but Pikachu wasn’t doing so hot and ended up being switched out just as you called out Arcanine. He called out a Helioptile, and immediately the crowd started chanting. You felt the anticipation rising in your core as you raised up Arcanine’s ball to the sky, the sensation of power already beginning to rise from within that golden band on your wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Arcanine,” you call out, your voice booming proudly through the speakers, “Let’s give this a proper go - let’s Dynamax!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine was returned, and the ball increased in your palms as the storm began to form. But as it grew bigger and bigger, a strange sensation started to rumble through your body. It could only be equated to being filled up with fire - a hot, burning warm bubbling straight from your heart and shooting through every vein in your body. It was exhilarating. It was agony. You threw the ball, feeling your fingers beginning to go numb. When Arcanine emerged, he towered above everything, his thick fur bristling with red electricity. Something seemed… amiss, though, with the way he was standing. He let out a dark howl, shaking the earth with his power while the crowd lost their minds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trainer hardly paid this any mind. He Dynamaxed his own pokemon. But it was clear that there was a difference here - something looked strange with your Arcanine compared to his Helioptile. But only you, in your last real moment of clarity, seemed to notice as the crowd cheered even louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were sure that the last leg of the battle was awesome to watch. Only, you don’t remember what happened from then on. One minute, you’re opening your mouth to call a command - the next, you’re stumbling off the pitch, a couple of medics struggling to keep you upright. Your throat felt like it was on fire, drier than the hottest desert, and every attempt to breathe sent waves of agony through your lungs. Your heart beat like a snare drum in your chest; each pulse left you convinced that it would be your last. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, your skin burned - oh yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was agony. Thank Arceus Leon was already waiting for you in the locker room, because boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>howdy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you had some fucking words for this asshat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-y</span>
  <em>
    <span>ouuu</span>
  </em>
  <span>...” you try to force your numb lips to form words as the medics force you down onto a nearby bench. “Get… fuckinnnnggg…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>ouuut</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please try to relax,” the champion sighed, looking down at you with his arms crossed, “The pain will subside when you relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groaned, letting the medics lay you down on your back as they strapped an oxygen mask onto your face. A blanket is draped over you, but you fight to kick it off. They pin you down not long after that feeble attempt. Leon turns to one of the medics, who is focused on attempting to get your arm steady enough to poke an IV into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s going through another wave of shock, but there seems to be a trend of milder reactions in her as compared to our previous subjects,” the woman sighed, finally finding a decent vein. “But she’s incredibly overheated and dehydrated. It’ll be awhile before she’ll be ready to get back out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your time. Let’s not rush this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your vision gets a little blurry for a few breaths. You try to focus yourself on glaring daggers at Leon, not that you particularly know why you are. He didn’t force you to do this. Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> he didn’t force you to do this. But it still was his idea. And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking sucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You dragged your free arm down to your side, only to realize that your pokeball clip was no longer there. A mild wave of shock coursed through you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-arc…” you try to push yourself up, but the medic team has you pinned pretty good. “He… Is he…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon suddenly kneels down beside you, brushing from sweat and hair from your forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine is just fine. He’s with some field nurses right now and will be feeling great in a little while. Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You force yourself to look into his eyes. Molten gold stares back at you, occasionally seeming to flicker with a distant hopefulness. Not overly blinding, but not hauntingly dark. No, he was telling the truth - he was being himself, right here in this moment. You manage a nod, letting your head lull back onto the bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can hear Leon’s voice becoming gradually more distant as you fight to keep conscious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make sure no reporters make it back here. Absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> interviews, absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> questions. You all know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And make sure that she gets every second of rest she can before the next challenger comes in… don’t want another incident… the administration…. It’s my…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all started to swirl together, becoming nothing but soggy alphabet soup as you stared mindlessly up at the fluorescent lights above you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All things considered, Leon should have been grateful that Raihan didn’t just kick down his door. That didn’t stop him from grumbling as he tettered down the hall and to his front door, moving out of the way just in time as his rival burst into his flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that?!” Raihan hissed, throwing his arms up with uncharacteristic frustration. Leon rubbed away some of the sleep from his eyes (not like he was getting any before Raihan showed up). “I know you have something to do with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what - [Y/n]’s matches. Are you really just gonna let her be used as a test dummy like that?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The champion sighed, leaning against a nearby wall as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “There were plenty of experiments done before this. I was assured that she’d be relatively safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Relatively</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you getting so worked up over this? It’s not like it’s affecting you…” Leon suddenly shot the taller man with a sharp glance. “Or, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan frowned, the consequent lines on his face looking entirely out of place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry - I’m just not used to watching people lose their fucking minds during what’s supposed to be a friendly competition! I’m fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried</span>
  </em>
  <span>! She’s new in the league, she’s not from this region, and now, she’s gotta put up with whatever sadistic games you and the chairman are playing? How is that fair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raihan… Don’t you think you’re getting a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> attached?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon tamer paused. There was a discreet softness to Leon’s words, almost impossible to recognize if they weren’t so close. Like a mother’s warning to a child reaching towards a flame. Raihan glanced away, not wanting to look at the careful expression on his best friend’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... No, I’m not. I’m just trying to look out for her, since it looks like no-one else will. Kabu threw her into this dumpster fire for seemingly no reason other than to save his own ass, the chairman is more concerned about getting views than the wellbeing of his employees, and then there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Leon narrowed in as Raihan let out a scoff. “...I can’t tell if you’re the good guy here or not, Leon. Who’s side are you on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m on Galar’s side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then who are you fighting? Because I don’t think you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> the answer to </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two stared at each other for what might have been a moment too long. Deep breathing filled the air, harsh stares answering countless questions in single-word phrases. Both were unafraid of saying too much - their bond was far too powerful to be broken by a simple argument. Perhaps that’s what made their rivalry so authentic, so amicable to the public eye. There was no such thing as going too far for the two of them, both a blessing and a curse. In the end, Raihan relented, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just her I’m worried about here, Leon… I’m scared that one of these days, you’ll do something you won’t be able to move on from. You’ve got a family that loves you so much, with or without that stupid ass cape. Do you really think you’ll be able to look at them again if you take things too far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon took a sharp breath of air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like I’ll have a choice. So long as they’re all okay, then… I’ll do whatever it takes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men stood in that tense silence, letting all of their words resonate just a little longer in the air that swirled into their lungs. They were tired. So very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired. Eventually, Raihan made his way back towards the door, giving Leon one more look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t let the chairman mess her up, Leon. It’s bad enough watching the younger gym leaders grow up without any idea on what kinda shit they’re gonna find themselves in. I don’t know what kind of life she was living before, but, I have a feeling that this was something that she really put a lot of hope into. I don’t want to see the chairman take that away from her... You know I’ve had enough of funerals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon nodded. If he knew anything about Raihan, he knew that. The dragon tamer sighed, opening the door and ducking under the threshold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raihan.” He looked back. Leon was standing straight now, hands frozen at his sides. “I’ll do my best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan didn’t need to say anything more. He gave a silent affirmation before shutting the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took to the skies, letting the cool breeze of what would most likely lead to another sleepless night wash over him as he indulged himself in memories of coming back to a home that wasn’t so empty.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. This Sparks Joy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short chapter, sorry, but it's got the Good Shit (tm), so I think it's fine lol. Enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something to be said about the sensation one feels when they have no fucking clue what the hell is going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers was notably partial to this feeling. If he had to rank it, being blissfully ignorant was probably in his top five favorite sensations (beaten only by the feeling of having his hair brushed, the feeling of knowing that you’re two seconds away from starting a giant bar fight, and the feeling of, well, uh - </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahem</span>
  </em>
  <span> - more </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate</span>
  </em>
  <span> matters). The only time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> like not knowing what was going on was when it involved Marnie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was one of those times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he muttered, leaning closer to his phone in an attempt to figure out what he was seeing. Marnie seemed completely unfazed, commanding Morpeko without so much as a tremble in her knees. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s gotten so confident</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the older brother couldn’t help but think, but as the camera panned out to the rest of the battle, he remembered what had startled him so intently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Arcanine was </span>
  <em>
    <span>frightening</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wild eyes, no regard for where it moved, foaming slobber trickling down its snarl as it blasted a powerful attack that Piers hardly recognized. Looking down at the far corner of the screen, its trainer - </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> - didn’t look exactly normal, either. You couldn’t seem to keep still, swaying back and forth with a wrinkled face of blind rage as you called out another attack. If Marnie hadn’t Dynamaxed Morpeko, the little creature would have been blasted into next year. Raw, unprecedented power seemed to resonate in jagged sparks between you and your Arcanine, but it was disjointed and without a clear sense of reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No harmony, no rhythm. Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>madness</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By some stroke of fate, Morpeko endured another hit, blasting off a surprisingly powerful Max Lightning that sent Arcanine up on its hind legs. A loud, paralyzing howl rumbled through the device before the subsequent explosion. Energy went shooting off, left and right, as if desperate to get away. When the chaos finally settled, Arcanine was returned to its ball, and you were heaving on the ground, looking two breaths away from vomiting out your innards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers already didn’t like Dynamaxing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t like whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> shit was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers were moving before he could stop to think, exiting the video and navigating to his contact list. His brows furrowed together as an index finger hovered over Leon’s contact. It wouldn’t be too outlandish to consider calling the champion of the region. This had Chairman Rose written all over it. No doubt he had sent Leon to do his dirty work. And yet, he hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t exactly consider himself close with the champion. If anything, Leon thought Piers was unmotivated, and Piers thought Leon was egotistical. They were acquaintances at best, just friends of friends. They regarded each other with the same love as you would to that one aunt that always makes passive aggressive remarks about you at the family reunion but everyone else likes her so you have to put up with her bullshit. It would be likely that Leon would just ignore the call and later chop it up to having been too busy to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he scrolled away, and found himself locking eyes with Raihan’s contact image (not his idea to have the image on his phone - Raihan had taken it himself, the little shit). If Leon had a confidant that he trusted with information like this, it would be Raihan. Those two were gushy, cuddly, annoying-as-fuck friends, and probably knew each other’s exact dick measurements with how close they were. But the dark-type gym leader had to admit - most of the reason he was cordial with Leon was because of Raihan. He wouldn’t consider them as friends, per say, but he definitely realized that he was a bit less shut off from Raihan as he was with most people. Raihan seemed to have this strange calming effect, despite the fact that he had the potential to be the most intimidating man on Earth. He knew a fair amount about Raihan, and Raihan knew a fair amount about him. They had a tangible sort of trust - not entirely sturdy, but still present. Perhaps he could shed some light on this travesty of a battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan doesn’t answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers sits upright, staring at his phone in disbelief as it eventually goes to voicemail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> answers. He’ll answer when he’s in the shower, when he’s in a meeting, when he’s in the middle of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>battle for fuck’s sake</span>
  </em>
  <span> - he doesn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>not answer</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Piers looks up at the top right corner of his screen. Thursday. 10:43 PM. Definitely wasn’t Goomy Hunting Night, that’s for sure, where the dragon-type specialist would almost always livestream his escapades in the Lake of Outrage with all calls immediately going to voicemail to prevent any disruption to the stream. This call just wasn’t answered. Ignored. Unheard. Whatever the case, it made Piers remarkably suspicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he did something he doesn’t normally care to do: he checked his email.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lots of junk from the league, a plethora of fan letters, a handful of terribly-formatted emails from shifty record companies - </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he found what he was looking for. An email sent out from Oleana herself, sent nearly two months ago; it detailed the information regarding that scheduled league meeting where the fire-type gym leader would be introduced, and included her contact information at the bottom of the email. The musician felt some sort of way about getting a womanl’s contact information without her explicit and direct permission, but he really didn’t have any other choice right now. For once, he couldn’t let himself ignore this. He didn’t really know why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He copied and pasted the number into his phone. He reached for the call button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck am I gonna say?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He ran a hand through his hair, only now realizing that he once again neglected to braid it up the night before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She won’t think I’m weird for gettin’ her number? Shit - she’ll think I’m a fuckin’ creep</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, this is business. Totally business related. Nothin’ creepy about this. Just tryin’ to see what the hell is up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If she doesn’t answer, she doesn’t answer. No big deal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses the call button. It rings once, and he immediately slaps the End Call button.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, what the fuck did I do THAT for?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She might think I’m watchin’ all her matches like a fuckin’ perv - how the hell do I reason THAT out?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath in, trying to shake out the mild panic in his fingers. It was a little warm in his room, now that he thought about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was just watchin’ Marnie’s match. I’ve watched her match with Milo and Nessa - ‘course I’m gonna watch her match with [Y/n]. Ain’t nothin’ weird about that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just wanna make sure everythin’s good. Just a quick call and that’s it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He hit the call button again. He listened to it ring a whopping two times before slapping the End Call button again and flopping backwards onto his bed with a loud groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuuuuuuckkk</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he slapped his hands onto his burning face. “This is fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>STUPIIIIIIDDDD</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Full disclosure: the last time Piers initiated a call with a member of the female variety who wasn’t his sister was back in middle school. And that was a dare. He ended up throwing the phone at the wall when she answered, walking away with a particularly reddened expression while his shitty old friends laughed in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You good? Okay, let’s continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m callin’ to ask about Marnie, I’m callin’ to ask about Marnie…” he chanted to himself, trying to will the confidence back into his body. After a few recitations of that phrase, he pushed himself upright, snatched up his phone and pressed the call button. He pulled the phone to his ear and squeezed his eyes closed. A part of him just wished that you wouldn’t answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the third ring, you, of course, answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hi!” he exclaimed, voice cracking just a bit as he mentally cursed himself out. He cleared his throat before trying to calm his beating heart. “I-I mean, uh… Hey… It’s… Uhhhh… This is Piers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hi,” you sounded tired, the rustling of what was probably bed sheets covering up some of your voice. He briefly worried that he had woken you up. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m, uh… I’m just callin’ ‘cause, well, I… I just finished watching Marnie’s match with ya from earlier today - not that I was watchin’ all your matches or nothin’. I was just, I uh - I watch all of Marnie’s matches. As support, y’know? So, that, uh, involved watchin’ your match - just the one with Marnie - and I…” he took a deep breath, summoning the power of his stage persona for just a few moments. “... I wanted to ask about what happened there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were silent for a moment. The musician tried to keep himself from thinking that you were already branding him down as being a creep for calling you so late at night, for watching your match so late at night. He was interrupted by what he thought sounded like a sob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-are you - is everythin’ alright?” he sat up straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More rustling from the other side of the line. A tired purr from a pokemon could be heard, soft and faint, perhaps muffled under a thick duvet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m… I’m alright. Sorry, it’s just… It’s been a long week for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. I should’a waited ‘til the mornin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright. I’m actually kinda glad you called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The male ignored the rising urge to smile a bit at your words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, can you tell me what happened? That didn’t look like the typical Dynamax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I don’t know if I can tell you.” Yeah, Piers suspected as much. He was prepared to tell you that not being comfortable with him would be okay when you suddenly continued on. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just… I don’t want you to get in trouble by knowing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme guess: Leon’s got you doin’ this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently the chairman is pretty persuasive. It’s not Leon’s fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, don’t pity him too much. Rose has all of us in pretty tight collars ‘n Leon’s the only one with the power to take ‘em all off. He just doesn’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were silent for a few breaths. A couple of coughs suddenly ring out from your end, and Piers briefly worries that he might’ve freaked you out a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” your voice is raspy from coughing, but remarkably gentle, “well… Maybe one day, he’ll do the right thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Piers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does, uh… Does Spikemuth have any good bars over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked a few times at the phone, wondering if he heard you right. Someone like you, asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> if there was a place to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>drunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>? To be honest, Piers wasn’t completely sure he knew how old you were. Perhaps old enough to drink, if you were here asking for a bar. Or maybe you knew that Spikemuth bars seldom checked IDs. Not like they had an organized police force there, anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… Yeah, uh, we got a few.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but realized that asking that would be hilariously irrelevant. Of course he fucking knew why you were asking. He just wanted to know why you were asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool, ‘cause I just found out that Motostoke is drier than the desert and I’m actually two seconds away from downing the rubbing alcohol I have in my cabinet right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A snicker snuck its way out of the dark-type gym leader’s mouth. He knew that feeling. He also knew that drinking rubbing alcohol would result in a rather laborious and painful stomach pumping session. That definitely wouldn’t do, now, would it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take you ‘round to one, if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, wait, shit</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That sounds great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Piers what the actual FUCK</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. Saturday night sound good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doING STOP IT AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely. Gives me time to recuperate a bit. Thanks a lot, Piers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FUUUUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem. G’night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The call ended. And so did all functionality in Piers’ brain. Slowly - very slowly - he set his phone down on the nightstand and curled himself into a very tight ball. He pulled a spare cotton blanket over his body and stared out into the dim nothing in front of him, thinking about all the fastest ways to somehow “accidentally” disappear into the nothing before Saturday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers was confident about many aspects of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talking to pretty women was not one of them.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This man owns my life.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. It Really Do Be Like That, Sometimes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Raihan considered himself pretty adaptable, in every sense of the word. Of course, this wasn’t just him being proud - no, this was something everyone told him all the time. He would manage through severe weather conditions, whether it be in a controlled battle or life-or-death situation. While he’d rather be at a nightclub with an armful of supermodels, he occasionally found himself wandering through the Wild Area with next to nothing just to see how long he could last. He was strong, fast, clever, and inventive - when it came to survival, he knew what he was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dragon tamer knew that surviving mental struggles, though, was just as important as surviving physical struggles. And even that, he excelled at. He recalled countless sleepless nights, whittling away at his studies as he fought migraine after migraine, eventually defying the odds of circumstance and getting his bachelor’s degree before he turned twenty-three. He survived middle school, high school, and college - homelessness, betrayal, and loss - and he never let any of that bring him to his knees. He was a survivor. That’s just what survivors do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the thing about survivors that most people don’t know is that they can </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>when someone else is surviving. He could see it in your own expression, watching with his hands curled into fists as he reviewed your past week of matches. There was a certain </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> that survivors had - a glimmer in their eyes, maybe, or the lack thereof. It was never the same from person to person, but you knew it when you saw it. A sense of hopelessness, the thought of self-erasure - and yet, always, these people pulled on their lame limbs and carried onwards. Raihan didn’t want to admit it, but this behavior in others held a unique kind of enticement far more interesting than anything a supermodel or a job or </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to offer. It was a fragile sort of beauty, one so delicate yet so stubborn that it refused to break apart, even as the cracks began to double.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, upon realizing that he had just spent a day rewatching a few of your matches, he decided that he would distract himself. Nothing good would come out of this, so best </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> and act like a goddamn gym leader. He got himself ready, dressed in his usual uniform and hoodie, and headed for the gates of Hammerlocke. Despite it only being a week into the gym challenge, more than half of the competitors had already made it to the city to begin the next set of gym battles. Reporters were crawling around the city by now, rummaging for interviews with the young trainers in hopes of building up personalities and narratives and fanbases for those who had the public’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He guided some people around, cracking jokes and giving advice, but eventually found himself leading Sonia and two other kids to the Vault. Just the idea of being able to rant on and on about the vivid and curious history of the region made the gym leader all giddy inside. But, he knew that he probably wouldn’t end up being able to give a huge extensive tour like he wanted - Sonia already knew most of this stuff thanks to her research, Hop couldn’t sit still for two seconds to really pay attention or care, and Victor… Well, let’s get to </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> can of worms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan struggled to focus on the conversation Sonia was mostly having with herself. His eyes kept drifting down to the quiet boy, who stared up with a questionable expression at one of the tapestries. His thin brown eyes glinted and glimmered even under the fluorescent lights, shining with an emotion that Raihan immediately recognized: </span>
  <em>
    <span>determination</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not the “hey, this would be a cool History Day Project” kind of determination, but the “I will capture the Avatar to reclaim my honor” kind. It was powerful, almost violent, with a surge of energy that looked so out of place on the face of a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s all I got for now,” Sonia sighed, interrupting Raihan’s thoughts as she turned to face the two boys. “You kids go on back to your training. I’m gonna stick around here for a while and see what else I can find.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop grabbed Victor’s arm, a giddy smile already falling onto his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! Let’s go grab some food before we head out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor, pulled from his trancelike state, gave his friend a gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as Raihan wanted to race after them, he had to stay in the Vault so long as Sonia was still here. But he couldn’t help but wonder about Victor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know much about the boy, now that he thought about it. Raihan knew that he was endorsed by Leon along with Hop, appeared to be a rather exceptional trainer with a fan-loved Drizzile on his team, and never really spoke unless spoken to. Just a quiet, unassuming kid from Postwick. Smelled faintly like roses. Kinda had a baby face. But other than that… nothing else was known about the kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s been through something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the dragon tamer thought to himself, pausing to glance up at the same tapestry that had caught Victor’s attention so intensely. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s doing this for something other than fame.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan crossed his arms, mulling over that thought before a new one popped into his mind, halting his breath for a few moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why does he look so familiar?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spikemuth was a lot of things to a lot of different people. A nuisance to the league, a cesspool to most of the region, a party wonderland to vagabonds - but to Piers, it was home. Sure, a lot of shitty things happened here all the time; he had his own fair share of bad experiences in the city. But it all just kind of grows on you. Nowhere else in Galar do you see such powerful artwork painted over the walls of what used to be a museum, now hollowed out and used as an occasional venue for rock bands. Nowhere else in Galar will you hear music playing twenty-four-seven, out of some window or building or basement in some way or another. The soul of art still managed to live on in the dilapidated city, even when coked-out lunatics were passed out in the street. It was a place that Piers felt a strange attachment to, despite its countless flaws. Especially for its countless flaws. But it definitely wasn’t the kind of place you want to be lost in.</span>
</p><p><span>So, that’s what he told himself over and over again as he got himself ready for your definitely-not-a-date meetup. Because it was definitely </span><em><span>not</span></em> <em><span>a date</span></em><span>. Not that he had thought about it possibly being a date, of course - that would make him a creep, right? No, this was just you needing some navigation through a rotten city. He was an escort, if you will. Okay, wait, not </span><em><span>that</span></em><span> kind of an escort - you know, just a guide. A chaperone. Nothing more.</span></p><p>
  <span>But there manifested another question: why were you asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>? There were plenty of other bars - </span>
  <em>
    <span>safer</span>
  </em>
  <span> bars - in Galar to go to, so why not those? Why couldn’t you have asked Raihan to go with you to that hoity-toity nightclub he always goes to? Maybe it was because you wanted to go on Saturday night and not a Friday night. Yeah, maybe that was it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or</span>
  </em>
  <span> maybe you just wanted to be around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, nuh-uh, reject that thought - fuck that shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers let out a groan of frustration, pulling off the thick strands black and white hair that had knotted around his fingers while he massaged in some product. It definitely didn’t get any easier with this wild mane. But, it was cool and fun, and Marnie liked his hair (and so did all the cute girls that went to his concerts), so long was how it remained. He gave himself a quick look in the mirror, trying to ignore the dark bags under his eyes. Dressed in a simple black tank top with some ripped red pants, some chains along the belt and his choker to boot, Piers made himself affirm that he didn’t look half bad. The jacket would only add to the look. Yes, he knew that he wasn’t as unattractive as he felt (the fact that he still managed to get laid on the occasion was proof enough of that), but definitely not by conventional means. It was always safe to assume that if a person got to choose between him, Raihan, or Leon, Piers figured he would always be the last pick. But who really cares about that kind of stuff? With a shrug of the shoulders, he reminded himself of that fact and exited the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just drinks. She’s havin’ a rotten time, no doubt, so keep it together. Don’t assume nothin’.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed his jacket, phone, wallet, and keys, before stepping out into the neon-tinged night, taking long strides as he made his way towards the entrance to the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You really didn’t know what you were expecting, but you really didn’t seem to care. All you could think about was drowning your pain in as much booze as humanly possible without so many people throwing you dirty glances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, you managed to reach the dark, looming gates of Spikemuth; you paid the flying taxi fare and waddled out of the cab, knees still shaking a bit from having to be off the solid ground for more than two seconds. Upon hearing the clack of your heels against the asphalt of the city streets, you feel a bit of nerves spike up in your stomach. Maybe you should have dressed a bit more comfortably, now that you think about it. You had decided on a black skirt and your black thigh-high socks, a magenta crop-top and some thick heeled black boots. You figured that you’d probably want to blend in to the city style a little bit, so people wouldn’t recognize you so easily - hell, you even put on some dark make-up and styled your hair differently. Even if you were still reeling from the painful after effects of VMAX from earlier in the week, you wanted to at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind of</span>
  </em>
  <span> look cute. It made you feel a little bit better, if a bit uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of heavy footsteps caught your attention. You turned to the depths of the city, squinting in the eternal darkness that always seemed present within it’s maw. The steps stopped. You stared onward, struggling to find a tangible shape in the ever shifting shadows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” you called out, hand resting on the side purse that wrapped around your person. “Who’s there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. You dared to take a step forward when the footsteps picked up again, this time a bit lighter. A familiar figure emerged from the darkness, pale skin almost shining under the moonlight. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw a faint flush of pink against his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just me,” Piers spoke, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. Without another word, you follow him into the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you’d actually answer. I’m not interrupting something, am I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon shook his head, offering a smile towards the front camera of his Rotomphone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s alright. I just made it back to my place. What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the screen, Sonia lifted up a hefty stack of papers, giving a dramatic groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> making some progress in my research! I spent all day today running poor Raihan to the ground by making him explain each and every artifact that revolved around the Darkest Day. I don’t think he was expecting to give a seven-hour tour today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He probably was happy that he got to lecture, though. He’s always been a history buff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I couldn’t tell, you know, with his degree in it and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon shrugged away her sarcasm, earning a set of laughter from his childhood friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find anything good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did! As it stands right now, here’s the story: the Darkest Day sweeps the region, taking everyone entirely by surprise. Then, not one, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> heroes appear to defeat the calamity by using some special sword and shield. Then they’re crowned and their royal bloodline extends all the way into our modern monarchy or whatever - who cares about that part. But what really caught my attention was the heroes themselves. In Motostoke, there’s that statue of one hero credited to being the distant ancestor to the queen, and that’s what the story has always said. But in Hammerlocke, it looks like there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it was symbolic?” Leon suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what Raihan said. But later on, he admitted that a lot of Galarian artifacts don’t generally rely on symbolism as much as other regions. Then he went on about some legend that originated in the Sinnoh region and I’ll admit, I kinda stopped paying attention for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t blame you - I think he forgets that history is actually the most boring thing in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not always. Thanks to what remains of those days, I might actually be onto something that nobody else has bothered to </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> dig deeper into. Like, who were these two heroes, what caused the Darkest Day, what happened to that magic sword and shield - AH! I’m getting riled up all over again!” She suddenly pouted, looking down at the corner of the screen. “The only bad thing about all this is that I finally have an excuse to travel the region and visit all the best boutiques, but I’m stuck inside writing up theories and notes. It’s not fair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s probably the best thing to ever happen to your wallet, Sonia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t get to talk! How much do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>spend snapbacks alone, Leon?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was his turn to throw on a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey!” He fumbled briefly for an argument, only to realize that trying to reason with a fashion-savvy woman that snapbacks were cool definitely wasn’t going to work out in his favor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman laughed, startling her sleeping Yamper in the background, who was once snoozing peacefully on the hotel bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry - easy target. But enough about me - how are you holding up? Keeping as busy as ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much. I haven’t been this busy during a gym challenge since I first became champion. On top of my duties as champion, I’ve also gotta keep an eye out for Hop and his friend. They can be a bit of a handful, especially Hop. I don’t regret it yet, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon concealed the worry that blossomed in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I just want them to stick together and stay safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of them during what’s supposed to be a great summer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry so much. Hop’s always been a pretty good kid, if a bit rambunctious, and from what I hear about Victor, he seems like the perfect paperweight to keep Hop in check. They’re good kids, Leon - they’ll be just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not what I’m worried about</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the man wanted to say. But he ignored that want and gave another bright smile for the camera.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. But, you’ll keep an eye on them for me, too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, her long wavy hair bouncing beautifully with the motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I will. But don’t be afraid to tear yourself from your champion duties every now and then to give them some support. They both really look up to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try. Because, you know, if I didn’t show my support for them, it would be downright…” he gave a cheeky smile. “...</span>
  <em>
    <span>tear</span>
  </em>
  <span>able.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia stared blankly at the camera. The champion watched her lift her hand to the phone, and only seconds later, the call was promptly ended. Leon chuckled to himself, letting his Rotomphone settle back into his hands with a satisfied grin. He caught his face in the black reflection, still managing a smile. It was a good smile, he thought, if a little fake. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. In Which Piers Nearly Explodes in Every Sense of the Word</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love this chapter, haha;;;; Oh yeah, and -</p><p>MILD TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter does include a scene where an attempted "kidnapping" takes place. Nothing bad or dubious happens here, but it's worth noting just in case. Another noteworthy scene to mention is Alcohol-Usage and some, uh, Intense Lack of Inhibitions as a result. Nothing dubious or incredibly sexual happens, there, either, but it may make some people uncomfortable. Reader discretion is advised with this chapter.</p><p>((If I need to add anything else or reword my warnings here, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I'm not so good at writing these without outright spoiling stuff that happens in the chapter, but I don't want to just NOT write a warning, y'know? So if you read this and find that I need to adjust this warning section a bit, please leave a comment or DM me on my Tumblr [@andromedarune] to let me know. Thanks a bunch!))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You didn’t normally drink, especially not in public. And even when you</span>
  <em>
    <span> did</span>
  </em>
  <span> drink in public, you rarely ever went with anything harder than maybe a margarita and a shot of vodka if you were feeling feisty. And because of your normally strict attitude towards intoxication, you managed to make it thus far without ever experiencing how it feels to be chaotically shit-faced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight was an exception.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all started out fairly as you planned. Piers was distant and cold, only really speaking to you when people got a bit too close to you, or to ask if you were ready to jump to the next bar when things started getting a bit too rowdy. You realized he mostly drank in silence, occupying his thoughts by looking up at the barely-functioning TV screens up above your heads, mindlessly watching whatever kind of garbage they had playing. You didn’t mind so much; you just wanted to be around someone right now. You wanted your body to be numb and your mind to be fuzzy, and you really didn’t want to bother with analyzing someone’s every little movement. Once you had a drink in your hands, you didn’t much mind the silence between the two of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then you hit the third bar. By now, you’ve had a few drinks, Piers has had a few drinks, and the night crowd is just getting settled in as the moon sat directly above the town. This bar was considerably more packed than the last two you visited, most of the patrons cheering loudly the moment they caught sight of their beloved gym leader. He offered a smirk with raised hands, reminding everyone that he wasn’t here to perform but to just relax, and everyone drank to that. The occasional drunk would stumble up to him and voice their admiration for the musician, to which Piers would always thank them before promptly telling them to find their way to the bathroom before they threw up all over the bartop. You watched in silence as Piers slowly let his shoulders sag down a bit, a buzzed confidence filling his features as he interacted with some of the people at the bartop. Even in the brief time you’d known him, you had already grown so accustomed to that tired, done-with-everyone’s-bullshit look on his face that seeing him with even the faintest of smiles felt strange. It made you smile, just a little bit. You ordered another shot of vodka for yourself, downing it as best as you could. It burned going down, but hardly compared to the agony of VMax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t really remember how you ended up in the next situation, though. One minute you’re seated an arm’s distance from Piers at the bar top, tossing down a shot that might have actually been tequila instead of the vodka you ordered - the very next, you’re being dragged out of the backdoor by someone you didn’t recognize. Your legs buckled with nearly every step you take, and all you can taste is vomit and booze. It hurts to think, and your wrist is harshly tugged down what you’re pretty sure is an alleyway. A sudden panic washes over you as you realize what’s happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let </span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” you manage to shout, landing a surprisingly well-executed kick to the back of his knee. It buckles, and he falls to the ground with a gasp. You manage to slip out of his grasp only to stumble backwards, all sense of motor control going out the window. He’s back on his feet in an instant, reaching down for your arm once again as you push yourself across the damp, gritty asphalt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then comes another time skip. The cold asphalt beneath your trembling hands is now replaced with the smooth feel of cool leather. Your nose is pressed up to someone’s neck as the world around you dims and brightens without any discernible pattern. You’re being carried. You accidentally let out a bemused chuckle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like a princess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit,” a voice suddenly dips into your hearing. It takes you a few moments to realize that it’s Piers. “I should’a been payin’ more attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S all good,” you mumble out, letting your lips glide across his skin as you speak. You’re not positive, but you might have felt his skin heat up at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re goin’ to my place. It’s too late to head to Motostoke - it’s not a good idea to leave you alone like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can feel a reply brimming in your throat. But you don’t remember what it was, because that’s where things cut to black for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next thing you know, you’re beaten awake by the migraine to end all migraines, rubbing your burning hot face against what appeared to be a layout of bath towels. You force your eyes open, preparing for the harsh sunlight of your apartment bedroom, only to find that everything around you is pleasantly dark. How considerate. But the more your eyes adjust, the more you realize that this </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> your apartment in Motostoke. Which means this isn’t your bed. Cue panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You attempt to sit upright, only to find your arms snug against your waist. You manage to wiggle and kick off the cotton blanket that covered you, revealing what seemed to be a black hoodie tied around your waist, trapping your arms. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>… Your brows furrow together as you attempt to piece together what exactly had gone on the night before. You remembered bits and pieces: the two of you went bar hopping, things were getting rowdy, then you’re being pulled away by a stranger, then suddenly Piers is carrying you back to his place, and then -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Piers’ house. This was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>bedroom</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother</span>
  <em>
    <span>fucker</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you hissed, hurriedly struggling to free yourself from the hoodie. It takes a few minutes, surprisingly enough; that thing was wrapped pretty damn tight. You give yourself a quick glance over. Okay, you’re still in all your clothes, albeit without your boots. But you can’t make any safe deductions based on that. You somehow manage to stand up (it takes a few tries) and stumble across the room, where a full-body mirror resides on what seems like a sliding closet door. You feel your stomach drop twenty stories within your body. What once was neatly done make-up was now a mess all over your face, eyeshadow and mascara staining your eyes and cheeks and neck. You’d obviously cried at some point during the night. Like, a lot. Your lipstick was next to nonexistence, the last clear remnants of it staining your chin and the corners of your mouth. Also not a good sign. Maybe it was just from your terrible sleeping? You could only hope as you ran your hands through your disheveled hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, okay, don’t panic. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe this isn’t what it looks like.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You glance towards the door. Part of you wants to sneak out as silently as possible. Another part of you is running through all the best ways to torture a man before you kill him. A clusterfuck of emotions course through your veins, and you can’t seem to decide on just one of them to fuel you. In the end, though, you just let out a tired sigh. Stuff like this happens. You get fed up with life, you drink with a friend, things get out of both of your guys’ control, and you move on. It just really bummed you out. That kind of lifestyle didn’t exactly appeal to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You make the Walk of Shame towards the door. Bracing yourself for whatever truth resided before you, you calmly opened the door and entered the living room. Immediately, you locked eyes with him down the hall. He had his eccentric hair wrapped up in a towel, dressed in a baggy white shirt with a pair of grey sweats. The moment he made eye contact, his face flushed red, eyes wide with what you can only describe to be pure horror. You held yourself upright on the doorframe, giving him a fierce glare that you couldn’t hold back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You think </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a rough night? Just wait until you hear Piers’ side of the story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, so it starts off well enough from his perspective: Piers walks you to the closest bar he could find and the two of you order a few drinks. He’s never been a fan of small talk, so he opted to just keep silent for most of the night rather than deal with the tightrope dance that is awkward conversation. Piers conveniently failed to mention to you, however, that a majority of the reason behind his silent treatment towards you was because he didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable around him. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he had ill intentions, and figured that this would be the best way to combat that. It certainly didn’t help with the way you were dressed - yep, talking definitely didn’t seem like a good idea to him like this. You both have your first few drinks, simply enjoying the lively environment of the bar and watching whatever the hell they had playing on the TVs. The second bar wasn’t much different, albeit a little rowdier. When he attempted to pay for both of your drinks, you slapped his hand away in favor of giving the bartender your own wad of cash. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“As thanks for trying to help me the other day,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> you gave him an honest smile, and he left it at that. Another round of light booze came and went, and when a fight looked to be moments in the making down by the pool table, Piers recommended that the two of you split.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then came the third bar. Piers admits that he should have known better than to visit this place with someone like you, but he liked the place and knew the people and the alcohol was clouding his judgement. By this point, you’re quite obviously drunk, slamming down shot after shot with no fear of consequence. Piers, having a shockingly high resistance to alcohol, had a pretty decent buzz going on. He couldn’t help but let the crowd of his fellow people sink a little closer around him, his deeper craving for human interaction coming out just a bit more. He talked and joked and drank for a good while. That is, until he realized that you were no longer beside him. He glanced around, hoping to find that you had perhaps stumbled off to inspect the bright neon lights along the walls, or perhaps had gone on a quest to the ladies’ room. He reached for another drink, eyes peeled on the entrance to the bathrooms in case you made an appearance. A few minutes passed before he finally saw your frame slink out from the bathroom, all sorts of wobbly and drunk-ass. You made it about two steps forward before bumping into someone, letting out a big smile and a bubbly laugh as you apologized. The smile you gave was downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>painful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Piers looked down at his glass for the briefest of moments, debating on whether or not this one should be his last for the night; when he looked up, he just barely managed to catch the tail-end of your skirt fluttering out the backdoor. His stomach dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was on his feet in an instant, pushing past people without hardly regard for their reactions. This type of shit never usually happened if Piers was present - so the fact that someone was so bold as to attempt to do so with Piers’ companion sent a rage unlike any other through the gym leader’s body. He kicked down the door, brushing the hair from his face as he watched this asshat try to snatch you up off the ground. Not even caring to bother with a warning, Piers landed a sucker punch to the man’s jaw, sending him reeling sideways into the brick wall. He stepped between you and the aggressor, fists raised as he readied himself for a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers may not be built like Leon or Raihan, but he bet money that he could definitely beat those two nincompoops in a real-life street fight. No rules, no precautions, no holding back - just your fists and a lot of blind rage. The man picked himself up, obviously disoriented and taken aback by the sudden attack. He was definitely bigger than Piers, but upon recognizing exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> stood before him, the man hesitated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” the musician spat out, gritting his teeth as he took a step forward. “Gettin’ second thoughts? Don’t let fear and common sense stop ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man threw a punch, Piers barely dodging it in time to land a well-time punch in the temple. The aggressor staggered sideways yet again. That definitely hurt, seeing as this grown-ass brute was blinking away a few rogue tears. Hardly waiting a beat, Piers landed a hard kick to the man’s gut. Heeled boots </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t feel too good against the stomach. It wasn’t long before the man was slumped against the wall, trying to figure out how in the actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> this twink-ass motherfucker was beating the shit out of him. Piers took another step forward, and the man immediately made the (probably smart) decision to high-tail it out of there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving the gym leader with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were a mumbling mess on the ground, apparently trying to remember the words to “Beat It” during the course of the brief fight. Piers sighed, kneeling down beside you as he attempted to set you upright. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> tried to ignore the fact that your skirt was riding up your partially bare thighs, revealing a little bit too much to be calm with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stand up,” he sighed, watching with a reddened face as you slumped limply against his chest for the fourth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t,” your voice was muffled against his jacket as you suddenly took a deep breath. “My legs’re wiggly… ‘n you smell nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to hide his frustration. Mostly because he didn’t know who he was frustrated at, exactly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, thanks… I’m, uh, I’m gonna pick you up. That alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suddenly threw your arms around his neck, giving out a squeaky sort of laugh. If Piers hadn’t caught himself, you surely would have fallen directly on top of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, man, that’s great… You’re my heeeerrrroooooooo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God fucking dammit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he cursed. He tried to discreetly smooth down your skirt so he wouldn’t be gripping the skin of your (surprisingly plush) thighs, but you weren’t exactly cooperating. You were wiggling and giggling, chanting “Picky-uppy! Picky-uppy!” over and over again before he just decided that he would walk really quickly and try not to think about it. He lifted you up and started the brisk walk out of the alleyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need to know what time it was to know that it was too late to head back to Motostoke. Not to mention that you were obviously not in your right mind and most likely wouldn’t be able to efficiently navigate the way back to your place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit...I should’a been payin’ attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S all good…” he feels you pressing your lips against the side of his neck. Oh, you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>really not making this any easier</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re goin’ to my place. It’s too late to head to Motostoke - it’s not a good idea to leave you alone like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You chuckle at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonna take care of me? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aw</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Piersy, you’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt your teeth suddenly nip against his neck, earning a slight yelp from his lips that he didn’t see coming. You laughed even louder, letting your head lull back as he booked it faster down the street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally managed to get the door open, the two of you stumbling inside and nearly tripping over the threshold. Piers managed to keep the two of you upright, holding desperately onto the walls of his house as he navigated his way towards his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” he heaved, purposefully avoiding looking at you in any capacity. “I’m just gonna put you down here, I’m gonna grab some towels and water, and then you can sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a loud moan of disapproval. It was, unfortunately for Piers, very adorable and a little hot. Nevertheless, the man put you down on the bed, trying to ignore how you slid your fingertips down his arms with that dangerous smirk on your face as he jumped up to head to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay calm, just relax</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tried to tell himself, grabbing a couple of towels for safe measure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s just a little drunk. I’ve handled worse. She’ll probably be out like a light by the time I go back in there. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked back into the room, where you were definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> out like a light. There, you stared up at him, wide eyes looking almost expectantly into his own. Piers ignored it, laying the towels across the top of his pillows. When he tried to stand up straight, he felt your fingertips just barely graze his sleeve. In that moment of weakness, he spared a glance at you and couldn’t look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you exhaled, throwing your arms around his neck and prompting mashing your lips hard against his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers stumbled backwards, accidentally dragging the two of you down to the floor where you landed right on his chest. He managed to pry you off, taking deep breaths as his entire body burned in that red-hot sensation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cut him off with another kiss, digging your hands into his jacket. You push him further and further into the floorboards, adjusting your legs so that you’re straddling his hips. The moment he felt your tongue glide up his bottom lip, he shoved you off once more, immediately scrambling backwards until his back slammed against the wall. You both were breathing heavily, a strange silence settling into the air as you stared at each other. He tried to gather his thoughts, but only ended up watching your surprised expression melt away as thick tears started falling down your cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-whoa, hey,” he moves to his knees, risking a few inches towards you, “hey, it’s alright, please don’t -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” you choke out, hunching forward a bit as your head swayed from side to side. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry - I’m just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span> and everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span> and - and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aaand</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now you were full on sobbing. Piers always wondered how things would go over the day he brought a girl home - this definitely wasn’t what he expected. You wailed and cried and overall just weren’t having a good time and Piers felt the weirdest array of emotions that he didn’t even know the names of. Most of it felt like confusion and shame, a considerable welt of pity hiding in there, too. He risked another inch closer, his hand just close enough to gingerly wipe away a thick rivulet of tears from your cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he kept his voice low, as if speaking too loudly would trigger another wild reaction from you. “And, uh, it’s fine. Whatever’s been happenin’... sounds rough. I just - I just don’t want you to do somethin’ you’ll regret, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was true. The last thing he wanted was to have you wake up with hardly any memory of the night before and freak the fuck out. You wiped the snot that dribbled down from your nose and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh…” Piers cleared his throat. “So, uh, how about you, uh, get in the bed, and I’ll bring you somethin’ to drink, and you can go to sleep, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slur out what was probably an affirmation before crawling back up the bed. Once again, he ignores the way you neglect how your skirt rides up to dangerous heights. He steps out of the room for a minute, mostly to collect his thoughts of what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck just happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and eventually returns to the room with a cup of water. He manages to set it on the nightstand just as you and your frisky fingers make an encore appearance and start crawling up his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay, okay!” he pulls away yet again, reaching over to his desk for the hoodie that he tends to leave across the table. “Let’s, uh - n-no more of that, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand sneaks its way up his shirt, nails grazing down sharply and hooking around his belt, and another gasp of surprise (and restraint) escapes his throat. Piers promptly snatches up his hoodie and wraps it around your body, pinning down your arms to avoid further incident. Probably a dumb idea, now that he really looked at it, but thankfully you were so goddamn drunk that you just accepted this reality and slumped back into the bed. Piers let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grabbed a spare blanket and pulled it over your person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you, uh,” he coughed out, avoiding any and all eye contact, “if you need somethin’, just gimme a shout. I’ll be in the other room. So, uh, yeah - g’night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, he shut off the light, closed the door, and screamed into the couch cushion for thirty minutes longer than he probably should have.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now, here we are, sitting awkwardly on the couch and making the least amount of eye contact possible. A horrible welt of shame and embarrassment washed over your person. You hadn’t meant to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> drunk! Sure, you knew that you could be a bit of a giggly bitch when tipsy, but you didn’t see any of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> coming! You had basically thrown yourself at this poor man who was probably just trying to be nice (in his own way) and now you had to sit here and ruminate on all that nonsense so things wouldn’t be so bloody awkward when you both inevitably had to interact again in a professional setting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am so fucking sorry,” you scrambled out, catching Piers’ attention once more. “I swear, I wasn’t meaning to do any of that. I’m so embarrassed - I didn’t mean to assume anything bad of you, and I should have known better, and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” he waved you off, giving an awkward smile, “don’t worry - I’ve had to help plenty’a drunk people over the years, so it wasn’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, whenever Piers had to help drunk people, they normally didn’t try to fuck him. But he tried not to think about that fact too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You managed a nod, still entirely too flustered to look him in the eye. The musician glanced over at your tensed up frame, feeling that wave of pity sink into his shoulders once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, uh...” Uh-oh, his mouth is forming words without permission again. “...if you want, you can always call me up again to go drinkin’. I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” you looked up at him, shock written all over your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Goddammit Piers shut your fuckin’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I, uh… I had fun. It’s nice to drink with someone without having to force some half-assed conversation. And I promise I’ll keep a better eye on you next time ‘round, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you SAYIN’ YOU FUCKIN’ STUPID ASS</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“... That’s… Really nice of you. I’ll probably take you up on that if we both have some time off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled. “Cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the man’s head, however, this was most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not cool</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. That's One Way to Say it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Halfway through the next week, you were informed that all the trainers had either been defeated and consequently dropped from the competition, or had moved on to the next gym. Which meant no more battles for you until the Champion Cup began in September. Now that you had miraculously survived your segment of the gym challenge, you let yourself take a few days to relax. Nothing needed your immediate attention, so you slept in a bit. The warmth of the sun’s rays as they filtered through your bedside window, the weight of Vaporeon resting soundly against your chest - ah, yes, this was nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were moments away from falling back asleep if it hadn’t been for the violent ringing of your phone against the hardwood nightstand. Vaporeon and you let out a unanimous hiss; the water-type slinked off from your chest to curl up on the fluffy white duvet as you blindly reached for the phone and pressed it to your ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning!” Leon’s painfully cheery voice cut through the receiver, eliciting a groan from you as he chuckled. “Sorry - you must still be sleeping, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you let the over-the-top bitterness roll of your tongue, “but I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>wide awake</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, so what is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, well, uh… I just, uh…” the sound of a slow inhale spurred a curious frown to sprout on your face. “... I wanted to thank you. For making it through the hard part of the season. I know it wasn’t easy, having to do… </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But I’m very thankful that you did, and I’m glad that you haven’t had any serious incidents thus far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You purse your lips. Leon had been remarkably silent about the whole VMax issue since you started your own battles, only ever really talking to you about it when you were half-conscious in the locker rooms. And even then, he was normally so tight-lipped and serious, occasionally gripping your hand when you groaned out in pain or wiping the sweat away from your face as you fought the pain of exhaustion. So, hearing all this come out of nowhere was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>unexpected</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to say the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yeah, you’re welcome. I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you probably don’t want to be around me right now,” he slowed down his speech a bit, sounding more curious than serious for once, “but… Please allow me to make this up to you. Your strength and courage deserves to be rewarded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An eyebrow rises at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are my options?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you’d like to do. Forget about money and consequence, and I’ll do my best to make it happen. Even your wildest fantasy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a strange lilt in his voice. Was he… </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggesting something</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You put on a wicked smile. Oh, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibilities...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come back, my LOVES!” you screamed, racing through the tall grass with your arms outstretched. Leon watched from the fence, a puzzled smile on his face as he watched you chase after a couple of startled Wooloo before accidentally tripping over something (perhaps a Wooloo) and disappearing into the grass. Leon burst into laughter, throwing his head back as you peeked your head out from the grassy terrain. A few Wooloo </span>
  <em>
    <span>baa</span>
  </em>
  <span>’d at you, all of which too shy to get any closer to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to warn you,” he called out as he childishly kicked his legs back and forth. “Even these Wooloo are super skittish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But don’t they know I just wanna love them? I would never hurt such a delicate little baby!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t exactly call Wooloo ‘delicate’ by any means. These little guys are about as indestructible as it gets thanks to their wool. I once saw one fall off a cliff and then just wander off to chase a Butterfree, chipper as can be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could you just sit there and watch a Wooloo fall off a cliff? You fucking psychopath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-not like I was waiting for it to happen! I just happened to be in the area, and it was already slipping - I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see it! I would’ve done something if I could’ve!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoff, sinking back in the grass in a vain attempt to sneak up on a few Wooloo. They seemed to sense you almost immediately, simply rolling away whenever you crawled too close to their liking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Suuuure, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lee.</span>
  </em>
  <span> How about you tell that story to your little brother, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lee</span>
  </em>
  <span>? See how he reacts to that, huh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>LEE</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could hear him choking on his words; you glanced over your shoulder, and sure enough, he’s blushing with a flustered expression on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey!” he wiped away the embarrassment on his face with his hand, suddenly giving you a sinister smirk as a vein of irritation popped up on his temple. “You do realize that I still am the champion, right? The single-most powerful person in the region when it comes to raw battle strength? It might be smart if you acted with a little more -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether or not I’m nice to you is entirely irrelevant,” you suddenly straighten up. “I’m willing to bet that your personal feelings towards people means nothing in the grand scheme of things. If you end up having to get rid of me, I don’t think it will really matter if you like me or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the happy Wooloo noises in the distance and the beautifully tranquil farmland around you, you might have been truly startled by the harsh expression being cast down at you. Leon’s brows were furrowed, his eyes dark, lips pulled into a tight line. After a few minutes of glaring at each other, he crossed his arms and looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be best to </span>
  <em>
    <span>avoid</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting on my bad side. I’ve already stuck my neck out for you - you’d be wise to show some respect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, you really do get pissy when you don’t get your way, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out an incredulous gasp, turning to you only to see that you were much too preoccupied with chasing Wooloo. You had given up trying to cuddle them - a simple game of chase would suffice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t respond any further, either realizing that you mayhaps be correct or deciding that you weren’t worth arguing with any longer. Either way, another silence settled over the serene field, filled only with Wooloo cries and the overhead songs of Rookiedee and Pidove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, okay, let’s get something clear here - you were really starting to feel threatened by Leon. He was right in saying that he was a force beyond most people’s skill, and you weren’t an idiot to deny that. And while he seemed to have a dedication to the safety of his people (whether it be out of pure love or possessiveness, you didn’t know), he seemed to only demonstrate his authority in certain circumstances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Let’s do a quick analysis real fast. He only ever got that menacing look in his eyes whenever it was just you and him - never when in public, or in front of other people. You were willing to bet that he uses that as his second-step intimidation, if he found that his mere presence and skill wasn’t enough. And considering the fact that he so far has yet to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span> for your opinion or permission or what-have-you, it was safe to assume that he is accustomed to getting whatever he wants (at least in his time as champion). And </span>
  <em>
    <span>furthermore</span>
  </em>
  <span>, whenever he did get all dark and intimidating and demanding, you could just barely catch wind of a slight hint at something resembling seduction. You were a grown-up, and you’ve been around lots and lots of different people in lots and lots of different situations - you knew this game very well. It wasn’t that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> voicing some desire for you, oh no - this was just him being an egotistical bastard. No doubt he could have women (and other genders, too - don’t assume nothing, mate) all over him at a moment’s notice. That kind of power sort of gets to you overtime. You begin to assume that everybody secretly wants you or finds you attractive in some capacity, and decide to use that to your benefit. And that was probably the single most annoying persuasion technique in the book according to you. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Your dick ain’t that special, dawg. It’s just the power that people want.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bottom line? He ain’t shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon was starting to seem like nothing more than a high school bully - pretending to be your friend, only to stab you in the back the moment you dropped your guard. So you puffed up your chest and you pushed him back, daring to threaten his territory. Well, metaphorically speaking. You were still chasing Wooloo and Leon was still huffing on the fence. But you were willing to bet that Leon wouldn’t make any hasty decisions without the permission of Chairman Rose. So long as you were of use to the league, you had theoretical immunity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Theoretically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you really just going to run around chasing Wooloo all day long? When I said we could do anything, I meant literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You trip over your feet and shriek into the grass. Leon watches with a forcibly blank expression as you popped back out moments later, hair looking a bit worse with every fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry - are you taking back your word, oh mighty champion? This quite certainly counts as ‘anything I want’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well,” he leaned back, careful not to fall, “most people would probably want to go shopping, or go to dinner, or visit the castle, or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wait for him to finish. He just sort of… drifts off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Or… What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Or</span>
  </em>
  <span>… perhaps, they might be interested in doing something more </span>
  <em>
    <span>physical</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frown. Ah yes, there it is again. That seduction shit. Fuck off, mate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get one thing clear here, Leon: I think it’s safe to assume that I, the person you’ve been threatening and have been given no choice but to use quite literally the most painful type of battle enhancer in the universe, absolutely have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no desire whatsoever</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have sexual relations with you in any conceivable way at this moment in time. Now, do I have to explain that again in simpler terms or did my words make it through your thick-ass hair and even thicker-ass skull?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, his expression - </span>
  <em>
    <span>priceless</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Leaned back as far as possible, eyes wide and lips pouted in a look of utter surprise, shoulders up to his ears, and red hot embarrassment covering every acre of skin. He seemed entirely frozen. You shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Seems like I got through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting for a reply, you turned back to the Wooloo, affectionately cooing away at them once more, as if nothing had happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~ * ~ * ~ * ~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The soft coos of overhead Pidoves mingled in harmony with the distant buzzing of various Combee. With the orange light that now began to bathe the secluded rose garden, a tranquil liminality settled onto the chairman’s shoulders. Peaceful moments like these were so far and few between these days, it seemed, so he figured he’d try his best to relish them whenever they came his way. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his trusty secretary (who hardly qualified as a secretary), returning with the cart of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is my schedule looking for the rest of the day, Ms. Oleana?” the older man questioned with his usual grin, watching as the woman began settling all the fancy white porcelain onto the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have one more meeting later this evening with the V-Star team down in Hammerlocke. The analysis for our recent trials with the fire-type gym leader are ready for you to hear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed as she poured a serving of tea into a cup. Roserade tea - it tasted good, and it was on brand for him these days, so it became his go-to beverage. And sure enough, it was prepared just as he liked it - two teaspoons of sugar, no more and no less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes. I am a bit excited to hear the results of that. Give me the summary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would appear that the fire-type gym leader is the most apt for Phase Two - her results seemed to surpass even those recorded in the champion’s trials.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose flicked up an eyebrow. Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Hm, that will definitely make this an exciting endeavour. It would seem as though my hypothesis was correct, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oleana pulled up her tablet, which she almost always seemed to have on her person somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s more. Not only has she built up substantially more energy during her matches, but her body seems to be able to adjust to the after-effects of Project V-Star. It also appears to me that her temperament may be adding to power of will, which is ideal for the next phase of your plans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How wonderful. Now we have options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose rubbed his chin for a moment, pondering things for a moment. Countless hours and resources had gone into the champion already, so from a businessman point of view, he should use Leon in an effort to make all that money and time worthwhile. However, the innovative genius in him is more curious to see how well the fire-type gym leader will react to such a proposition. It would definitely accomplish the same tasks, and perhaps add a bit more into the fame of the Galar League (imagine it - not one, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> powerful trainers who’ve ascended to the title of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hero</span>
  </em>
  <span>). But unlike Leon, you were finicky - far too much of a hero, as far as Rose was concerned. It would be a challenge to get you on his side, and even more of a challenge to trust you to follow through with his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I may, sir,” Oleana cleared her throat, catching the chairman’s attention once more. “Now that we have confirmed the perfect conditions for the project, it may be worthwhile to attempt to replicate those conditions with the champion. It would be a waste to not use him, not to mention that the public would far more enjoy their beloved champion being the savior of the world rather than some foreign gym leader. We also have far more trust in him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s exactly what I was thinking. But it might not be so easy to replicate the results. Leon is far too strong for one of us to defeat him even in a proper battle, and I don’t see him being so willing as to make that sacrifice…” Rose trailed off, his thoughts taking over once more as Oleana patiently waited. Soon enough, he nodded. “Perhaps there’s a way we can use both. That way, nothing goes to waste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll explain later tonight when we see the rest of the V-Star team. But for now, notify the surveillance teams to bring me their notes on everyone. Everything must go entirely according to plan, so I’ll need every bit of information in order to keep things running smoothly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, sir.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Yeah, I Threw in Some Random Song I Like Without Basis of This Character Even Liking it - What’re You Gonna Do About It? Mind Your Own Damn Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>MILD TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter includes scenes alluding to child abuse. Please read with caution if that information is particularly sensitive to you. (Also, let me know if I need to add or alter this TW with any more information).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Piers finished up watching Marnie’s latest match against Bea (this year, it would be Bea and Gordie participating in the Coin-Toss gym locations, where the type specialty alternated each year). He nodded with every call she made on the field, feeling a brief swell of pride in watching her completely wreck shop despite having such a strong opponent. She knew her way around a battle, he knew, and was proving herself and her city to be the force to be reckoned with. With the help of Team Yell, Marnie’s regional (and international) fanbase skyrocketed up in recent days, earning her much public attention and support. He contemplated on watching her following interview, only to end up staring down at her serious face featured in the thumbnail. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She should really smile more</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he couldn’t help but think, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s got the best smile</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In the end, however, he exited the app, deciding that he would watch the video later. For now, the man returned to the open notebook on his desk, his right hand instinctively reaching for the guitar that rested on a stand beside him. Something about the feel of the strings against his fingertips at that moment...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The youth let his fingers glide up and down the strings of his acoustic guitar, letting the sweet chords he created spring into life. His hands didn’t have the ability nor the strength to pick out the complex patterns he so desired to demonstrate, so instead he opted for a simple strum pattern to fill every humble chord.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"♫ In my eyes, indisposed,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In disguises no-one knows,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hides the face, lies the snake</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In the sun, in my disgrace…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Boiling heat, summer stench</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Neath the black - the sky looks dead.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Call my name through the cream</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I’ll hear you scream again… ♫”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He let his legs kick out in front of him, ignoring how the dirt below him threatened to fall into some of the open cuts along his knees and shins.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“♫ Black Hole Sun,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t you come</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And wash away the rain?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Black Hole Sun,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t you come?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t you come?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t you come? ♫”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SLAM!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy immediately dropped his guitar, jumping to his feet as he spun around to face the back patio door. He heaved a sigh of relief when he realized that it was, in fact, not either of his parents.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Arceus, Marnie,” he heaved, leaning down to pick up his instrument to check for any serious damages. “I almost had a heart attack.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Piers,” she waddled up to his leg, pulling on the end of his thick black and white striped sweater. “Piers, I wan’ a cookie.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He sighed, giving the toddler a pat on the head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know you can’t have a cookie. It’s almost naptime.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The little girl frowned, giving the biggest pair of baby doll eyes that the youth had ever seen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“PLLEEEAAAASSSSEEE???”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He glanced between her and the patio door. Tears were already beginning to form in those sweet green eyes. Piers tried to frown, tried to put his hands on his hips and put on his best big brother voice and say “No, Marnie - now go to bed.” But the words wouldn’t come. Eventually, he just sighed. The little girl watched as he spun around and tucked his guitar back into its usual hiding place - tucked safely away in a gig bag that he stole some months ago, covered up discreetly in the backyard by the plethora of bushes that surrounded the old house. Marnie began to cheer as he jogged back up to her, only to be shushed as he took her hand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Alright, let’s go get’cha a cookie,” he smiled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For the smile she gave him then, it was worth it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers blinked a few times in surprise. A memory. It had come out of nowhere, jumping into his mind’s eye out of nowhere. He shook it off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No time for that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he reminded himself. He straightened up in his chair, lifting the instrument onto his lap. Automatically, his fingers began to strum against the strings, running through a handful of exercises in order to stretch everything out. He hardly had to think about it, anymore, all these once challenging routines now feeling so mundane that he had to force himself to go through the whole routine with an internal groan. But he’d rather be bored for twenty minutes than butcher the instrument because he was too impatient to warm up properly. About halfway through some arpeggios, however, his eyes glazed over a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He picked himself off from the carpeted floor, ignoring the stars in his eyes and the throbbing in his left ribs. Marnie’s sobs were getting closer and closer, until he realized that she was right in front of him, fat tears rolling down her chubby pink cheeks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist, “I just wanted a cookie - I’m sorry...”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He probably should have scolded her. Any other older brother would have snapped in frustration, perhaps calling her selfish for making him take the fall for stealing a cookie against parental orders. But instead, Piers just gave her an honest smile and knelt down to her level.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, don’t cry. See? I’m just fine. I’m stronger than I look.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She coughed out a few more troubled sobs before nodding. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Now,” he glanced behind him, making sure that their father had in fact gone off to his room, “do ya wanna go play outside?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The little girl nodded again, and reached for her brother’s awaiting hand. He straightened himself out and guided her towards the back patio, careful to shut the door as softly as he could behind them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Piers shook his head. Wrong chord. He rolled his eyes and glanced down at the open notebook before him. It was a special musician’s notebook that Marnie got for him on his birthday. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“So you don’t have to draw out all the tab boxes ‘n stuff all the time,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she had said as he unwrapped the gift. Some of the grids were filled in with chords, a few questionable lyrics tucked in hardly legible handwriting along the margins. The book definitely came in handy when he couldn’t be bothered to draw sixteen tiny little grids when inspiration struck at two in the morning. But even if he didn’t like it, he would still use it. It was a gift, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Marnie’s sobs caught his attention. Piers snapped his head towards the bushes, where Marnie was previously picking flowers before she flung herself into his arms. Her head smacked against the fresh bruise on his ribs, forcing a pained grunt from the elder sibling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I saw somethin’!” she cried out, pointing a trembling finger towards the foliage. “It tried to eat my fingers!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He patted the girl’s head. It was probably just another suspicious-looking rock. But, nevertheless, he pulled her behind him and began to inch towards the bush. The youth sunk to a crawl, peering into the bush to see if he could find this finger-eating culprit. So far, so nothing. He reached in with his hand, digging around and promptly earning a distressed squeal from the little girl.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s okay, Marn!” he chuckled, reaching a little further in. “It probably ran away, now. Ain’t nothin’ to worry ab-BAAAAAHHH!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pulled his hand back, kicking himself onto his rear as he stared wildly at the bush. Bleeding finger held tightly to his chest, he listened as the sound of rustling began to surface. Marnie jumped behind him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Out comes a tiny little Morpeko, a curious look on its cute little face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Piers let out a chuckle.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aw. Just a Morpeko.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It squeaked a few times, paws rubbing its cheeks and starting a couple cute little sparks. The little girl giggled, taking a few steps out from behind her brother.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cute!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Morpeko seemed to like being called cute and crawled a couple steps closer, big black eyes focused on the tiny toddler. Piers instinctively reached an arm across Marnie to make sure that she kept her distance. This </span>
  </em>
  <span>was</span>
  <em>
    <span> a wild pokemon, after all. It had already bitten him pretty good - he didn’t want to risk her getting her finger eaten for real this time. Morpeko squeaked a few times more, running a few circles around the two as if inspecting them. Marnie attempted to follow it with her head the whole time, but ended up getting dizzy and falling into Piers’ shoulder. Morpeko also seemed to like that, as well, chittering in laughter as it inched a few steps closer. Marnie shyly raised her hands to her chest, letting out a timid giggle as the pokemon got just close enough to sniff her tiny pink flats. Piers prayed that the creature just wanted to inspect and play - it was also a dark-type, which meant it might have a penchant for causing mischief. Before Piers could react, Marnie reached out to pet the pokemon. A brief wave of unbridled terror swept over the boy, but it all soon melted away when he watched the Morpeko sweetly nuzzle the girl’s hand in response. A single chuckle of relief slipped from his throat as he relaxed, listening to his little sister burst into giggles as the pokemon chattered for more pets.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fell back into reality, an annoyed frown working its way onto his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright, quit daydreamin’ already</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he rapped his knuckles on his head. He looked down at the tabs, getting his fingers ready. A gentle, swaying rhythm rocked into life, his head unconsciously bobbing to the melody. He always made it a habit to write songs he actively enjoyed, songs that he desperately needed to hear. That way, he could always have the right emotion put into the piece. It’s hard to enjoy music when you don’t connect with it - one of the many reasons he refused to sign on with a record label that just wanted to force-feed him half-assed songs about “fighting the system” or whatever the fuck those people thought punk rock was about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks to his chicken-scratch writing, he ended up just humming the melody as he strummed out the chords, trying to get a feel for what kind of words he wanted to say. A song in the minor key (he couldn’t help it - writing in minor keys was kind of his thing these days), it seemed to call for something locked within the heart, something you can hardly express with words without bursting into tears. Not gushy or fluffy, but deep and emotional. Something rich. Something primal. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>raw</span>
  </em>
  <span>. While it perhaps would become yet another bold rock ballad when he played it on his electric, he let himself indulge in the gentle lullaby he strummed into life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You ungrateful little brat,” his mother hissed, leering in from the doorway, “I oughta just kick your sorry ass outta here!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Piers balled up his fists, picking himself up from the ground once more. Though he remained silent, he glared daggers at one of the people he was forced to endure.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“First you steal food that don’t belong to ya, then you almost let your baby sister get mauled by wild pokemon -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It wasn’t gonna hurt her -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut’cher damn mouth! You don’t care ‘bout no-one but yourself. All you do is lie, cheat, ‘n steal. All you’re even good for is showin’ Marnie what a bad egg looks like.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy was silent at that. He turned his head to the side, ignoring the now fierce throbbing in his ribs. The woman scoffed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just like your father. A right mess is what’chu are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In the distance, the infuriated sounds of his father echoed down the hall. He definitely had heard </span>
  </em>
  <span>that</span>
  <em>
    <span>. His mother groaned, shouting out a few expletives before slamming the boy’s door shut, managing to knock down a few trinkets from his dresser in the force of it all. Piers paid them no mind; he directed his attention to his bed, sinking to his knees as he thrust a hand underneath. There, a bag waited for him, all packed and ready to go. A handful of dusk balls, a map of the region, some granola bars he had stolen from the store, a single water bottle, a thick wad of cash he had earned from pickpocketing over the years, and an old family picture. Or, what </span>
  </em>
  <span>used</span>
  <em>
    <span> to be a family picture. He had cut it up so that all that remained of it was just him and infant Marnie in the center. Despite how happy they looked, things were always just like this, angry and broken and just plain shitty. Once he made sure that he had everything, he zipped up the bag and pulled it onto his shoulders. The boy slid towards his bedside window, expertly unlocking it and opening it as silently as he could, looking down from the second story to the ground below.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He could leave right now. No-one would know what became of him. No-one would care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And yet, he hesitated.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All he could think of was Marnie’s tear-stained face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looked back at the door, then out the window. Then back to the door. What kind of lies would his parents feed to Marnie? Perhaps that her brother really didn’t love her after all and had run away to live as a vagabond in the streets. Maybe that he was abducted by vengeful fairy-type pokemon because he didn’t listen to his parents, and kids who don’t listen to their parents are always taken away by fairy-type pokemon. Those thoughts danced around his mind, and suddenly, the boy ached with a nauseating guilt. If he left, his sister would be left to fend for herself in this shit-hole, wondering for years about what had become of her brother. As the argument between his parents grew louder and louder from down the stairs, Piers continued his thinking between her and running away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But a familiar chatter from outside caught his attention. The boy looked out the window once again, and sure enough, there was that little Morpeko. It wandered about the yard, calling out tearfully for something. Someone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suddenly, the boy had a great (but probably bad) idea. He climbed out of the window.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhg, gimme a break,” he finally threw his arms to his sides. Realizing that he wasn’t going to be making any sort of progress with his work, the gym leader pushed himself to his feet, carefully returning his acoustic to its stand, and began to make his way out from his dark basement. He liked to keep things dim and ominous - it was easy on the eyes, and it just kind of fit his whole aesthetic. Marnie never seemed to mind it, so the darkness remained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now that Marnie wasn’t around, the darkness felt… a bit gloomy. Well, like, more than usual. Even though she could hardly be considered a cheery person by most people, she always managed to bring a smile to Piers’ face. Always so honest and blunt, unafraid to state exactly what was on her mind and in her heart - not to mention that those timid tears had dried up in her age, as well. But with that maturity came a stubborn rebelliousness that Piers couldn’t help but admire, no matter how frustrating it could be. Yes, she’d be a great leader, no matter what kind it may be. He could only hope that she would end up leading somewhere a little closer to home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Marnie?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The little girl rolled onto her side, tired green eyes blinking away the tiredness from her cute little face as she squinted through the darkness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mmm… Piers? Wha…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He tiptoed into the room, one hand behind his back. The little girl sat up in her crib, grumpy expression on her face quickly fading as she saw his excited grin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I got a gift for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Really?!” she exclaimed, only to be hushed by the brother as he worriedly glanced at the door. When nobody barged in yelling and screaming, the two looked back at each other. “I mean… Really?” she whispered. “What is it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Piers revealed his surprise: a dusk ball. He gingerly placed it into the girl’s awaiting hands, watching her inspect it with wide eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This’ll be our little secret, ‘kay?” he patted her on the head. “You can’t let Mum or Dad see her, got it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Her?” Marnie gave a hopeful look to the pokeball. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Piers nodded, and gently pressed the button at the center of the device. A soft </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘pop’</span>
  <em>
    <span> chimed out, not loud enough to alert anyone outside of the room, and revealed a rather chipper-looking Morpeko. It excitedly squeaked as it nuzzled the little girl’s cheeks, earning hushed giggles from both children.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Morpeko is an electric-dark-type pokemon,” the boy explained, leaning over the railing of the crib. “So you gotta be real careful not to startle her, alright? There’s another thing, too - Morpekos get real moody when they’re hungry. It’s an ability of theirs. So I’ll try ‘n keep some food around to feed her so she doesn’t cause a riot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay. I’ll be really careful, Piers - I’ll feed her ‘n take her for walks ‘n train her ‘n -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just remember - Mum ‘n Dad </span>
  </em>
  <span>can’t</span>
  <em>
    <span> know. Never, ever, ever. If they see her, they’ll take her away. And they might take me away, too.” The girl gave a horrified look at that, but he chuckled as he waved it off. “Don’t worry, Marnie. I’m strong, but you’re even stronger. No matter what happens to me, I want you to know that I’ll always be your big bro, and I’m always lookin’ out for ya. You’ll remember that, won’t ‘cha?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy smiled, and spared a few more moments watching the two play before returning Morpeko to her ball and sneaking back into his room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found himself in his room, staring down at that same old photo from so many years ago. It was pretty faded, now, worn from years of being held so tightly between his fingers. It seemed like lifetimes ago, living in the old house that was now nothing more than a pile of rubble halfway across town. No doubt his old guitar was still there, if some rando hadn’t stumbled upon it during a bad trip. Not that Piers ever wanted to go near that place ever again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, sitting in his bed, his long boney legs pulled up to his chin, his humble little home had never felt more empty. For the longest time, it had always been just him and Marnie against the world. And now that she was off, running along the faded tracks of his past, he wondered if this would be what finally divided them both forever. If Marnie succeeded in her quest, she would be crowned as Champion of Galar, and would end up stationed in Wyndon. She would deal with all of his burdens and then some, having to commit whatever atrocities Leon no doubt had hidden in his closet in order to appease the current administration. As terrible as he felt about it, Piers wanted nothing more than for his sister to lose. So then, she could come back home. And if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to help Spikemuth regain some of its former glory, she would accept his proposal to succeed him as the dark-type gym leader. She certainly met all the qualifications and then some. Even though she’d still be working with the god-awful league, she would be home, where Piers could protect her if she really needed his help. Not that she would accept it, but still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sigh echoed through the small room. For the first time in a long time, he ached for someone - </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> - to reach out to. Not to talk with, but just to be there. Almost immediately, a name came to mind, but he quickly slapped that out of his mind right away. Definitely not a good idea - not when he was all nostalgic and lonely and desperate for some kind of closeness. But the thought remained, and reminded him of that night with you. His lips still burned at the thought of it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Quick Announcement!</p><p>Okay, first I wanna just give a little thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting - y'all really have been the real MVPs and have been keeping my spirits up for a damn long while! So, yeah! Thanks!</p><p>Now, a bit of bad news. It would appear that my life has decided to spontaneously combust this past week - I won't go into details, but uh shit's kinda hitting the fan a bit harder these days than it has been for me this year, and that's really saying something. Shit sucks rn, if I'm being honest. And though I've still got plenty of chapters written up already to keep TDW going seamlessly for probably another month and a half, I haven't made any substantial progress in this fic from that point, which is kind of a problem for me. </p><p>Now I'm really not planning for this to be one of those unfinished fics that I always hate stumbling on, so please don't fear that I'm giving up just yet. I just want to be transparent with y'all and say that I'm DEF not in the right mind space to make progress and post updates for a bit. So after some careful consideration, I've decided that I'll be taking a break next week to see if things liven up a bit for me. I understand that this is not exactly ideal, especially since some people have mentioned to me that this is a bit of a comfort story for them in these trying times. I totally understand, and feel for you - but I want to continue to be able to respond to comments and make sure every chapter is decent enough to read, and it was really difficult to do that this past week. Things might not clear up next week, either, so I'd at least like to try and deal with some of my personal garbage without worrying about my fanfiction not being uploaded on time or waiting for comments or what-have-you. </p><p>I'm not writing up this long-winded deal to try and get sympathy - I just think it's important to let you guys know (since you've all been so groovy and cool in the comment section) and not have y'all thinking I gave up on this story or died or whatever. I'll try and still keep an eye out for comments here and there, and will be relatively active on Tumblr (maybe not posting, but I'll be there, lurking in the shadows...), so feel free to come by and chat! I don't bite - I mean I'm pretty annoying but don't think that you're being annoying if you wanna slide in my Asks or Dms, lolol.... I will gladly chat about PKMN or whatever while pretending that my life isn't garbage lolol. </p><p>Okay haha I'll shut up now. Bottom line is: I'm taking next week off, so NO UPDATES WILL BE OUT FOR NEXT TUESDAY AND FRIDAY (PST). If I need more time, I'll post an announcement probably that Saturday on my Tumblr and/or this AO3 fic directly. Sorry about the inconvenience, but I'd rather take the time to get myself sorted out so that I can continue to write the best version of this god-forsaken story as best as I possibly can! In the meantime, make sure you guys are taking care of yourselves. Shit's getting wild out here, and now with the holidays rolling in, shit's only gonna get worse. So buckle up and hang in there, alright? Eat food, drink water, take breaks, draw self-indulgent fan-art of your favorite scenes of certain PKMN fanfics and send them to the ever-amazing author on Tumblr (oh, for example, a writer like @andromedarune ) bc anything involving PKMN gives them a boost of serotonin that surpasses that of sex and drugs... take regularly scheduled naps - Be good to yourselves! Even if it feels like your world is crumbling all around you, know that I'm always cheering for you, no matter what! </p><p>Thanks for reading, y'all. See you in a bit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Oh, To be a Girl Screaming Her Lungs Out While She is Whisked Away by a Mischievous Dragon-Type</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back! Thank you everyone who left those lovely messages for me last week - I know I couldn't reply to them all, but I really am grateful for every single one of you people! I've mentioned this on my Tumblr, but I'll say it here, too: things are getting a bit better on my end. A lot of the external junk tends to get exacerbated by my mood swings, but it looks like that break was enough to kinda pull me out of the downward slump, lol. I've even started making progress on new chapters, so hooray! </p><p>Thank you everyone for reading - it warms my heart knowing that people actually like this fever-dream concept of mine, lol. It looks like TDW will be on-going for a hot minute (it's turning out to be a reeaaaal big'n, lol), so I hope y'all enjoy the ride while it lasts! Thank you and let's jump into today's update!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Not that he would consider himself the epitome of morality, Raihan prided himself in the few rules he lived by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Always fight a fair fight, even at your own expense.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This had been drilled into his head for years on end, most notably when he started using sneakier tactics during his gym challenge. Eventually, though, the words of his old man stuck, and Raihan believed that he became a better person because of it. It was fine to use your strengths to your advantage during a battle or fight or what-have-you, but to outright use deception or dirty tactics was downright despicable. It was about honor and respect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never stop asking questions, never stop seeking answers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He had heard this idea when he took a history course on Ancient Sinnoh Religions back in college. While it most definitely was directed towards the need for skepticism regarding history, he allowed those words to hold a bit more weight all around in his life. His desire for the truth, his innate want for reasoning - it certainly caused him a lot of trouble during his initial years as gym leader. But against what the higher ups seem to think, Raihan hasn’t stopped digging. He’s just gotten better at hiding his findings, waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his knowledge to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three - </span>
  <em>
    <span>No minors</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No, but, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span> - he actually has to bring this one up a lot more often than one would hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never betray someone’s trust.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If someone puts their faith and hope in you, there is nothing more cruel to be done other than stab them in the back. It was a horrible, painful, heart-crushing realization. To Raihan, trust was about as sacred as knowledge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Have all the fun you want, but never fall in love.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This one was a bit more specific, but arguably the most important of all the five rules. Raihan had been faithful to this rule for five years now, and was determined to keep things that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So long as it didn’t conflict with his five rules, Raihan did as he pleased. Things have been comfortable, and plenty fun, thus far. He’s a powerful gym leader, he’s plenty intelligent, he’s a famed dragon-specialist, he’s an internet celebrity, he’s adored by millions…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And… he’s a little lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t really matter. He shrugged it off, deciding that it was just a part of the experience and continued on his way. And yet, that lingering thought continued to remain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Saturday afternoon, which could only mean one thing. His social media was exploding with hopeful anticipation, thousands of people already waiting in chat for his weekly Goomy Hunt stream to begin in a few hours. When he first joined the league, believe it or not, Raihan didn’t much care for social media. But then he started getting into the habit of taking post-defeat selfies after every match with Leon, and then it sort of just… evolved from there. He started posting those (which would either result in encouraging messages or death threats - never anything in between, apparently), and then he started having fun with it. Training selfies, victory selfies against other leaders, fan selfies, shots from the occasional fashion shoot, sandstorm pics - okay, in his defense, the sandstorm was supposed to be a selfie, but it’s kind of hard to tell. People seemed to eat this shit up, leaving all sorts of comments and tips and overall interesting words, so Raihan kept at it. In the end, he developed a pretty unique fanbase that adored him. If it weren’t for their constant support, the burden he bore might have been too much at times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan finished his homemade lunch and packed up his eventual dinner, stuffing a few more necessities into his duffle bag before throwing it over his shoulders as he strode into the living room, where Flygon was snoozing away on the couch. Because they could be a rowdy bunch when all together, Raihan had to keep most of his team in their pokeballs (except for Flygon on the occasion, as he was the only one who usually didn’t accidentally destroy or get slime on everything).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to bounce?” he cheered, giving a hard set of pats onto the dragon’s exposed belly. Flygon kicked his legs, letting out a yawn before stretching out his wings to lift himself off the couch. He waddled over to his trainer’s side, giving a few loving nips onto Raihan’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon didn’t even look at you. Instead, his attention was focused entirely on Salazzle, who was hissing and flicking her tail back and forth from where she crouched low on the turf. Flareon attempted to run over to quell the fighting, but you pulled him back. Something clearly was wrong with Arcanine - the last thing you needed was someone getting hurt here before you could figure this out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine,” you tried again, taking a slow step towards the fire-type, “you gotta relax. Salazzle was just messing around. She’s your friend, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine let out a low, menacing growl. His eyes glared harshly at the other pokemon, suddenly seeming so dull and hollow. You took another step forward and Arcanine snapped his eyes towards you, letting out a defensive bark. Never before had you seen such a wild look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Salazzle hissed again, snapping her jaws in an attempt to get Arcanine’s attention off of you. It worked, more or less; Arcanine hunched over and growled even louder towards Salazzle. Flareon looked up at you with a frightened whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t even really sure how this started. One minute, you three were running through some simple drills on the field - the next, these two are moments away from killing each other. And that wasn’t just you being overdramatic. Arcanine has previously always tolerated Salazzle’s antics, never once having lashed out or even growled at her. But now, here he was, fur standing up on end and slobber running down his chops. No doubt Salazzle had instigated something - she was still kind of a bitch - but she never really meant harm by it. But that didn’t mean she was going to back down. Salazzle are naturally territorial creatures, and can be very aggressive. Even if she considers herself Arcanine’s friend, the likelihood of her backing down in the name of friendship or even survival seems low. No, this situation needed intervention - you just wished that it would be divine intervention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. She’s not trying to hurt you. She’s your friend. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> are. Friends to the end - through hellfire and rain, it’s all the same. Don’t you remember that, Arcanine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine’s ears twitched. You watched the tension slowly deflate from the pokemon’s stance, his eyes blinking away the blind rage from its coal-black eyes. He seemed confused, looking around from side to side once he came down from his hunch. Salazzle heckled, licking her eyes proudly before skittering off somewhere else. Slowly, Arcanine turned to you, sinking to his stomach and letting out a low whine. It broke your heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, buddy,” you cooed, releasing an anxious Flareon to pet Arcanine’s face. “I know you can’t help it. That Vivamaxing stuff really messed us both up, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon nuzzled your hand, his cold nose brushing sweetly against your palm. While you felt leagues better than you did during your week and a half of back-to-back battles, a few symptoms continued to remain. You were prone to overheating, which infuriated you to no end considering you were a fire-type specialist from a relatively tropical region. During one of your final matches, you had passed out and woke up an hour later - you had suffered from heatstroke, Leon informed you. On top of that, you now also got spontaneous, vomit-inducing migraines that completely debilitated you for hours on end. You had gotten some medication to combat that, however, and it worked relatively well. And, of course, then came the inconsistent heart problems. Sometimes you’d feel your heart beat so fast that you struggled to keep still, a terrible anxiety forming into full-blown panic as you pounded against your aching chest. Then, on the other side of the spectrum, you would occasionally feel nothing at all in your chest, which would then lead to you passing out wherever you stood, only to wake up a few minutes later with some serious confusion. You can hardly sleep, you can hardly train - what kind of bullshit was this?! Having grown up a relatively healthy person, all these sporadic problems frustrated you to no end. This definitely wasn’t the super-happy-fun-times job that you were promised, but then again, you knew that it was probably just you having been too hopeful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think… I think that’s enough training for one day,” you manage to say, giving Arcanine one more scratch behind his ears. You clap your hands, and both Flareon and Salazzle approach you as you recall everyone into their balls once again. Your chest was beginning to hurt. So, you dragged yourself back down the pitch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flygon peered into the tall grass, laser-eyed focus on </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> within. Raihan turned around, catching sight of this with an amused expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up? Find something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the gym leader took his first step, Flygon dove into the grass, instigating a tiny whine from the grass. Raihan rushed in, attempting to pull the dragon out by his rump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FLYGON WHAT ARE YOU DOING LEAVE IT ALONE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon lifted its face, a muffled series of chirps cheering out from its throat as he revealed his findings. A small, still-wet baby Vulpix, wriggling around in his mouth. Its eyes were still shut tight, tiny little tails gooey and stuck together. With the gentility of a mother, Flygon placed the little pokemon into his trainer’s awaiting hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, a Vulpix?” he mused, inspecting the still crying creature. “And a newborn, too. Where’s your mum, little guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon ducked his head back into the grass, only to return again with a sorrowful buzz. Raihan’s shoulders slumped. He looked down at the baby Vulpix, who suddenly looked so scared and small and thin in his giant hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit…” he sighed. “Well, I can’t just leave you out here. The Goomies and my fans will just have to wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon let out a cheerful set of chirps, tail curling up a few times as he fluttered his wings. Raihan cast the dragon a sharp glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, behave. We’re just going over to drop off the Vulpix and then come back here. Don’t get any ideas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon let his trainer climb aboard, a devious flick of the tail going unnoticed by the dragon tamer. With the baby Vulpix secured inside his hoodie pocket, Raihan gave the command and they were shot into the sky, making a bee-line towards Motostoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were in your office, reading through a few documents sent earlier that morning from the Wild Area rangers, when you heard a knock on your door. It nearly sent you tumbling out of your swivel chair, but once you recovered from the mild heart attack, you got up to answer. Much to your surprise, there was Raihan, beaming down at you with that lackadaisical expression of his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Afternoon, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey, Raihan. What, uh, brings you here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the gym challengers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I’ve still probably got another week before they start breaking down my stadium doors,” he ducked into the room, walking over to sink into the sofa at the far ends of the small room. “Looks like Opal’s giving everyone a hard time, right now. All those kids looked so damn confused during their matches - it was hilarious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded, although you didn’t personally know what he was talking about. With your health the way it had been, you hadn’t been able to keep up with the season’s progression as much as you had hoped. A brief wish rang out in your heart that those three trainers you had met were still going strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh, what’s up?” Okay, a little impatient, yes, but you were still feeling some pain in your chest from earlier. Arcanine had really freaked you out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan gave an offended look, though you could easily tell that he was just messing around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I can’t just come and visit my favorite princess just ‘cause? You’re breaking my heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just curious,” you laugh, leaning against the back of your desk. “I mean, it’s almost Goomy time, right? Shouldn’t you be in the Wild Area?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, well, uh,” he reached into his pocket, “about that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watched as this giant-ass dude straight up pulled out a baby Vulpix from his jacket pocket. It cried out in irritation, probably because it was really cozy inside of his hoodie. You gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raihan?! Why do you - what - </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHY</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flygon found him in some grass earlier,” Raihan gave the little pokemon a tiny scratch on the head. It seemed to like that quite a bit. “So, I thought with your puzzle style and all, that I’d bring him to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s definitely not a good idea to take a baby from its nest,” you sigh, walking over to accept the little guy. It’s still kind of wet. You affirm that it probably hatched not too long ago. “Ninetails are incredibly finicky, Raihan - when they see one of their babies missing, they’ll probably -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh… I don’t think the parents made it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart dropped. You tried not to think about how this was the second time something like this had happened during your first season as gym leader. It only made you wonder how often Raihan dealt with this sort of thing. So, your eyes gazed down at the little baby in your hands. It was already so small in your own palms. It let out little yips as it attempted to get its bearings, but was ultimately too weak to even keep its head up. Who knows how long it would last out in the wild, all alone, with no-one to take care of it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh slips out of your mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Alright. I’ll take it to the nursery down the street. They’re real good people, so I’m sure that this little guy will be just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan gave a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as you gently began to coo at the pokemon, using your thumbs to rub some warmth into its tiny body. Vulpix rolled around in your palms, its cute little yips and hums echoing around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always really loved fire-types,” you suddenly found yourself saying. “They’re always so genuine. You never have to worry about how they feel about you, because they’ll always let you know. They’re so warm and inviting, and it’s safe to assume that they always wanna cuddle. You don’t need to be an expert in pokemon to know what it is these guys are thinking…” You press a soft kiss onto the pokemon’s head before looking up at Raihan. “... In a way, you kind of remind me of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan blinked a bit in surprise, earning a chuckle from you. You couldn’t help but blush, a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just that, well… You’re always so honest. I mean, I know we don’t know each other all that well, but it’s kind of… I feel like I can always tell what you’re thinking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the second time since he’s known you, Raihan is utterly stunned silent. Up until now, you’ve always had this playful air to you. Once or twice he’s seen you get serious, but that’s about it. This was entirely different - it was warm, inviting, cozy like a domesticated fire. Raihan knew he wasn’t the kind of man to hide his feelings and intentions, but he always managed to retain the image of aloofness without needing to lie. And yet, with just those words from you, he felt a terrible blaze ignite in his body. He couldn’t allow himself to meet your eyes. He opted for scratching his neck while he looked away, instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um…” he let out a weak chuckle as he fought to find the right words, “... yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing the slight awkwardness of the situation, you return to the main problem at hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, so, uh - I’m gonna take this guy to the nursery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go with you,” he suddenly blurted out. “A-as, uh, emotional support?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although he wouldn’t meet your eyes, you could see the twinklings of what might have been hopefulness in his eyes. You can’t help but smile a bit to yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To be perfectly honest, the fact that Raihan didn’t see any of this coming is kind of stupid on his part. He was an expert on dragons, knowing the statistics and psychology of various different types, knowing countless myths regarding some of the legendary ones, and spent most of his life actively taming and training them. He understood that these were creatures of principle, honor, and courage. And yet, he forgot one crucial, irrefutable constant that was always found in dragon-types: when presented with something they want, they will most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>steal it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you had just left the nursery. The nice older gentleman that ran it was more than happy to take the baby Vulpix off your hands, carefully placing the poor thing onto a heating blanket once he attempted to bottle feed it to no avail. You had mentioned plans to come and visit the little guy whenever you had freetime, and the owner mentioned that the Vulpix would most certainly enjoy that. So, after a few minutes of friendly conversation, both you and Raihan left the establishment, glowing in the comfort of knowing that Vulpix was in good hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan made a few flirtatious jokes, you tossed some clever refutes right back at him, and eventually the two of you made your farewells. Raihan released Flygon from his ball and was just approaching the green dragon to mount him when suddenly Flygon bolts into the air, sending his trainer staggering backwards. Before Raihan could even get a word out, Flygon zooms towards you and lifts you effortlessly from the ground, wrapping his powerful talons around your back as he makes a break for it. With no other option, you cling to the beast for dear life, arms wrapped as tight as possible around it’s long neck. Flygon chirped and sang joyously as he ignored Raihan’s fervent pleads to return, eventually disappearing into a cloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You little…” Raihan growled. Suddenly, he spun around, catching sight of a Corviknight cb and its jockey not too far away. “Excuse me! Are you free right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over on your end, you were having a bit of a panic attack. Okay, a complete and total panic attack. Your heart was racing, your hands trembled against Flygon’s rough scales, and you kicked your legs violently as you attempted to wrap them around the creature’s torso. You had finally screamed your throat apart, left to only wheeze in fear as Flygon’s eerie song rang out from its wings. He seemed to enjoy the screams and cries that left your mouth as he dipped and dived and flipped in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flygon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” you begged, hoping that he could hear you with all the wind pushing past you. “I’m gonna fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>barf</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon chittered - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was that a laugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Suddenly, your stomach began to rise as you felt the weightlessness increase tenfold. Flygon was taking a wild nose-dive downwards, zooming down to the earth at the speed of light. You cried out, hoping that death would be merciful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just at the last moment, you felt Flygon swoop upwards, his wings singing out what sounded an awful lot like a perfect B flat chord before landing. He set you perfectly on your feet, even reaching over to brush off some imaginary dust from your shoulder. You were amazed at the fact that you were standing, despite the fierce tremble in your knees. Flygon gave a loud series of happy chirps. He nuzzled and nipped and overall was too cute to really get mad over. Damn you and your passionate love for pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flygon,” you gave the beast a few neck rubs, “I’m sure you were really happy to see me, but did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to kidnap me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon looked down at you, tweeting an eager reply before nuzzling your cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy to see you too. But I think Raihan won’t be too happy that you ditched him to take me… Wait, where are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked around, only barely realizing that you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Lots of thick, giant trees sprawled around you, and bushes of berries and flowers made it hard to see much further than the little trail on which you stood. Some distant pokemon cries rang out around you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we in the Wild Area?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this the Hammerlocke Wild Area?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another nod. You cocked your head at the pokemon, who lowered his head a bit and let out a curious chirp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Did you want me to go Goomy Hunting with Raihan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flygon let out a loud tweet as he nodded, wings fluttering excitedly behind his back. You gave him a confused smile. Why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flygon </span>
  </em>
  <span>be so determined to get you here? From what you knew about Raihan’s Goomy streams, he rarely ever had Flygon with him - usually, he was by himself or with Goodra. So it didn’t seem likely that Flygon would get to spend time with you if you did go. So, why did he bring you here? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A curious thought breezed through your mind. What if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted you here? While it certainly seemed possible, you shook it away. Raihan’s a cool friend, yes, but he never brought anyone along with him during these trips. Stealth and precision were a must when hunting for elusive, timid Goomy, so he always opted for just his own wits whenever out looking for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why do you know so much about Raihan’s Goomy escapades? Shut up. Stop asking dumb fucking questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before you heard the call of a Corviknight flapping down towards you. Flygon flicked his tail back and forth as Raihan lept from the cab, thanked the jockey, and began his trek towards the two of you. Flygon immediately wrapped himself around you, letting out a deep buzzing hum as Raihan crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” the gym leader scoffed. “We’re hoarding girls, now? Is that what we’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave Raihan a deeply confused look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dragon-type thing,” he sighed, shooting Flygon another sharp look. “Dragons are chivalrous when it comes to most things, but it’s a whole other story when they find something they like. They’ll do whatever it takes to steal it, hide it, and hoard it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what - you’re saying that you’ve got a tower stocked full of girls somewhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan choked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course not</span>
  </em>
  <span>! It’s - uhg, normally, Flygon just hoards pillows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pillows?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he likes the softness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave Flygon a good pat, and he buzzed loudly against you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, Flygon,” the dragon-type chirped in knowing protest, “I really am, uh, honored, and all, but it’s kinda hard to breathe like this…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, the dragon unraveled himself from your person. You heaved a sigh of relief as he waddled away, slapping Raihan in the thigh with his heavy tail. The dragon tamer ignored it, pulling out his phone to check the time. He gave you a sorry look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, princess, but I’ve got a stream to do. You know how it is. But you can take a ride back to…. Ah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both looked back to see that the taxi had vanished, most likely halfway to Motostoke by now. Raihan pursed his lips, seeing how the sun was already nowhere to be found in the ever-darkening sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” you tried to think of another solution, but none came to mind. Calling a Corviknight taxi to the Wild Area wasn’t exactly a thing, here, so scratch that out. You didn’t have any flying types on you, so scratch that out, as well. You didn’t suspect that Raihan would lend you Flygon, so nick that. So in other words…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’re gonna learn how to hunt for Goomies,” Raihan suddenly shot you a wink. “Hope you’re not afraid to get a little wet and dirty, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, in your state of pure bewilderment, you have nothing smart to say.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. All the... G O O M I E S !</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>She left me slime down by the stairs~<br/>Her grossness lets me know she cares~!</p><p> </p><p>Y'all ready to hunt some Goomies with a ridiculously tall hot guy??? YEAH BOIIII!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Raihan commanded his Rotomphone to start the stream. You hoped that you at least looked somewhat presentable as the phone steadies itself before you and Raihan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys. Thanks for waiting - I got a little distracted getting ready for the stream, and happened to run into our fire-type gym leader in the process.” You gave a meek wave, watching the sudden flood of likes bubble up beside the capture. “So, she’ll be my assistant in today’s search for the elusive shiny Goomy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the Rotomphone hovering around you both, Raihan recalls his Flygon and begins to guide you down the trail. You have to admit - you’re a little nervous to be on camera, especially when off the battlefield. Raihan nudges you from the side, an easy smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax - just act like it’s not even there. Oh, and, uh, let’s try to keep it PG, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I should be telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> that,” you snicker. Raihan shrugs, continuing onwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you make some light conversation, walking down the forest trail before eventually stumbling upon a large, sprawling lake. Despite all the berry trees and water all abound, you notice there is a sudden quietude about this place. You don’t see any pokemon around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the Lake of Outrage,” Raihan explains, hands sliding into his pockets. “This is probably the most exciting place in the Hammerlocke Wild Area. It’s home to crazy powerful pokemon, and also where lots of different dragon-types like to hide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, how do we get there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan smirks, walking towards the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Check </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you can think to ask what he means, Raihan fishes a berry out from his bag and tosses it into the water with a loud whistle. The berry immediately sinks, and for a few moments, all is quiet. That is, until the water begins to ripple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud roar suddenly erupts from the lake, sending a geyser of water shooting up in the air. You flinch, but Raihan remains as cool as ever while the water practically drenches his entire body. Your eyes widen as something breaks through the surface of the lake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A Gyarados?!” you exclaimed, stumbling backwards. Raihan nodded, reaching his hands out to the water-type as it swam closer to the shore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. This guy’s been like a guardian here for a long time. Normally, he doesn’t much care for humans and prefers to scare people away, but I come here all the time. He trusts me well enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could only gape in awe as the pseudo-legendary lowered its head to the gym leader, easily dwarving even the great Raihan himself. With a few good pats to the head, Gyarados allowed the man to climb onto his back before he offered a hand to you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not serious,” you exhale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, it’ll be fun - you’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glance between the water and Raihan’s hand. You didn’t exactly have fond memories of open bodies of water, either…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, can’t swim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grimace, but can’t manage to refute. Instead of laughing, Raihan gives you a big smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, princess - just hold on tight and I’ll make sure you don’t fall, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you hesitantly reach for his hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I probably shouldn’t make a fool of myself in front of thousands, so…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment your fingers grazed his palm, the dragon tamer tugged you from the ground, earning a squeal of surprise as he pulled you in front of him and held you tight. A warm blush settled on your face and neck. He felt so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sturdy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there behind you. It reminded you of when you flew with Leon, but at the same time, this was a bit different. Here, your back is pressed flush against Raihan’s chest, and from the angle at which you both are holding onto the Gyarados’ back, you’re kind of sitting on Raihan’s lap. So, you were forced to lean back on him, much to your embarrassment; while you would rather lean forward to hide your face in the pokemon’s back, you didn’t want to accidentally grind on Raihan. Not that you were even thinking about that. Nope. Definitely not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gyarados took its time swimming across the lake, moving in a wavy motion that rocked the two of you from side to side. The Rotomphone expertly broadcasted your ride, swinging around for aerial shots and the occasional close up as you both were carried in relative silence. In a few minutes, you were being gently placed back onto solid ground, Raihan turning around to offer another berry to the water-type.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks a bunch, Gyarados. We’ll be plenty careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon let out a deep growl as it nodded (or what you assumed to be a nod). It promptly sank back into the water, its tail splashing against the surface of the lake just before disappearing entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The island you ended up on seemed flush with life; tall trees spanning far up into the sky, thick bushes draped with vines and flowers, and a few tiny pokemon occasionally scurrying past your feet. As serene as all that seemed to you in the moment, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being watched by something very powerful from within the now darkened environment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan pulled you along, keeping a very close eye to the ground. The deeper you walked into the forest, the more he began to hunch over, it seemed. You must’ve had such a confused expression that the Rotomphone did a few close zoom-ins on you just staring at the gym leader, who was all but crawling on all fours as he inspected the grass below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh…” you began, trying to keep yourself from laughing, “...I, uh… I don’t wanna pry, but....”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan laughed, looking up for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right - forgot you were there for a second. If we’re gonna be finding a Goomy any time soon, we’re gonna wanna be on the look-out for their tracks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tracks? As in…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slime,” he poked at a rock, perhaps trying to see if it was damp from slime or something else. “But we gotta keep moving. Goomy really don’t like light, and tend to avoid a lot of the more powerful pokemon. So be on the lookout for anything ooey and gooey, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grimace, but otherwise follow orders. You knew what a Goomy was, of course - you had seen them online and found them cute in their own special way. But the idea of seeing one in person? You were surprised at yourself for being unsure about how you felt about that. Sure they were cute, and sure they were sweet, but… Okay, let’s be honest: they look totally gross. Like, constant excretion of slimy mucus? That’s filled with </span>
  <em>
    <span>germs</span>
  </em>
  <span>??? Let’s not even talk about the alien-ass horror novel that comes with its evolution, Sliggoo. Nightmare fuel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, Raihan continues to wear an optimistic smile on his face, even when crouched down on the ground looking for gross-ass goo, so you decide to swallow your pride and indulge in the search. On the occasion, you’ll both be interrupted by a loud cry of a pokemon somewhere in the forest, and Raihan would immediately raise his hand towards you, his other finger up to his mouth. After a few moments, he would relax and continue further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last thing we want is a battle in here,” he whispered, Rotomphone swirling around your heads. “Not only will it be a rough one, but it’ll scare off any Goomy in the area. They have great senses, and the moment they hear trouble, they sneak off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t Goomy, like, kinda slow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, sorta. But once they’re gone, that’s it. You’ll never find them unless they want you to. Trust me on that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know from experience?” you laugh, glancing over a few damp-looking rocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan laughs briefly before devolving into a groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I do. When Goodra was a little Goomy, she used to do that crap all the time. Hiding in the tub, the washing machine, on the ceiling -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ceiling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>ceiling</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he emphasized. “But she was always super friendly so she’d always come find me soon enough. Back when I was on my own gym challenge, I fell asleep out here on accident after a long day of training. The next morning, I found her right on my chest, almost completely dried up. So, I took her to the Center right away, stopped by the doctor a week later because I ended up getting an eye infection, and we’ve been super close ever since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a love-bug.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you don’t know the half of it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You started to laugh, only to stop dead in your tracks. Raihan and the Rotomphone looked towards you as you suddenly dropped to your knees. He called your name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, “I think I found some.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goo?” he jumped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GOO!” you cheered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never in your life did you ever expect to be so happy to see a suspicious-looking gooey substance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan knelt beside you, investigating the thick slimy ooze that trailed out from behind a rock and into the bushes before you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, that’s Goomy stuff, alright,” he nodded. “Looks like it leads this way. Try not to touch anything. I don’t have any spare gloves, and you seriously don’t want this stuff on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod, and Raihan digs into his bag to reveal a pair of bright orange rubber gloves. He pulled them on, gave you a cartoonish smile and a thumbs up, and parted the bushes for you to walk through. The two of you wandered through the undergrowth, occasionally getting nicked or pulled by some rogue branches and brambles. Eventually, Raihan pulled back the last of the annoying bushes to reveal an almost dreamlike display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large clearing resided in the middle of the forest, with the half-moon high up in the sky; countless puddles of water and mud were scattered around, a few damp rocks protruding from the ground like pillars of an ancient society. Meandering around were happy little Goomies, all slowly minding their own adorable business as they slithered about the circle. You gaped at the sight, feeling a bit surprised to have found something so, dare you say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>magical</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You looked over at Raihan, who looked quite literally two seconds from crying tears of joy. He looked like someone just told him that he wouldn’t be dying of some deadly disease like he had thought - it was the face of a man who had finally accomplished his life’s work. The Rotomphone did a good zoom-in on that, thank goodness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good there?” you whispered, nudging him in the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan began to vibrate from excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look….” he gasped, slowly building up energy. “Look… at all… THE GOOMIESSSSS!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly squealed like a little girl, excitedly vaulting over the foliage and running into the fray. The Goomies immediately were startled, slithering away as Raihan threw himself onto the ground in the very center. Suddenly, he became very still, lying face-first in what you could only hope to be mud. You watched with the most quizzical expression as he just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>laid </span>
  </em>
  <span>there. What the fuck was he doing???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when you thought that Raihan had completely lost his gourd from excitement, however, you began to realize that the Goomy were no longer fleeing. They had stopped, the little antenna-like horns on their heads twitching curiously in his direction. A few glanced at each other, perhaps wondering if this strange human was dead or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By some miracle, a couple of the braver Goomies began to inch towards Raihan’s still body. They took their time, pausing every so often to leer forward with their little sensors before slinking a few more inches forward. Eventually, a couple were right beside the man, pressing against his now muddied </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> wet body with their horns. You watched in wild disbelief as they began to crawl upon his body, sliding up his side and onto his back. You literally didn’t know what to do as more Goomies began to approach him with no fear, eventually sliding up his legs and arms and back for Arceus knows what reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You honestly considered bailing this peyote trip when Raihan called your name, lifting his one free arm in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can come out now,” he called out from the ground. “These guys are chill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few mindless blinks was all you could manage at first. Eventually, though, you listened and tiptoed out from behind the bushes. A few of the Goomies looked at you, some hiding behind others, but they otherwise didn’t flee like you expected. In fact, one of the braver ones slid off Raihan and began to make a surprisingly quick trek towards you. It inspected your shoes, looking up at you with a curious expression on its strange little face. For some reason, you felt as though it wanted something from you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I wish I could pet you, little friend,” you wave at it with a tender smile. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any gloves… I’m really sorry - but you are definitely very cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Goomy, though a bit sad, seemed to understand. It mushed its malleable face around a few times at you before slithering off, reclaiming its spot right on Raihan’s bare calf. You approached the body of the man who had been reduced to nothing more than a Goomy sleep-over blanket. He lifted his head up as you knelt before him. Half of his face was covered completely in mud, but he didn’t seem to mind as he gave you his traditional easy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he chuckled, careful not to move so much as to disturb the rather content bunch of baby dragons. “I’ve been looking for this specific group for a while, now, and I finally found them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were looking for a shiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am. But you see, these guys are all from the same clutch - they’re siblings. And with such a huge clutch of pokemon that aren’t bug-types, there’s a chance that you might find a shiny among them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” you look over at one of the Goomy </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Goomies? What’s the plural form? Goomi???)</span>
  </em>
  <span>, who seemed to mimic that weird face-morphing thing that the last Goomy did towards you. It was cute, in a slightly off-putting way. “How does any of that cause a higher likelihood of finding shinies - wouldn’t it just be the same as finding them in the wild?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not always. Dragon-types and fairy-types are special, in that sense. They tend to have only a couple babies at a time, and have bigger gaps between mating seasons than most other types. So, when you find a big family like this, there is a higher likelihood of finding an off-color baby among them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember learning all that in trainer school,” you can’t help but laugh a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan shrugs (or he attempts to, seeing as he’s still on his chest in the mud with about nine little monsters all over his body).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My old man taught me that. He actually had a shiny Altaria a long time ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa. Was he a dragon tamer, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” a suddenly thoughtful expression waved over Raihan’s face. “He taught me everything about how to traditionally tame dragons. It’s thanks to him that I ended up becoming the person I am today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a deep somberness to his voice, one that felt so out of place coming from his lips. You’ve heard that emotion enough times in your life to know what it means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He must’ve been a great person to have inspired you so deeply.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes. To your surprise, it’s not as tense or awkward of a silence like you thought it would be. Raihan rested his head in the mud again (much to your internal displeasure), eyes closed with a peaceful smile gracing his features. The Goomy look more than comfortable atop the dragon tamer, some blowing a few mindless bubbles into the sky as the stars and moon twinkle brilliantly up above. The Rotomphone so far has been focused on close-up shots of each and every Goomy, careful not to get their mucus on its mechanical body. You look down at Raihan once more, and feel a sudden fondness for the man. Sure, it may have well been because he looked so damn handsome in the moment, with that smile on his face with his eyes resting shut. But this feeling was a bit deeper than that. You could see the relaxation that emanated from his body, and couldn’t help but feel your own body ease into his presence. It was a rustic kind of peacefulness, the same kind one would feel when looking up at the stars at night. It was safe to say that you felt letting your guard down a little with Raihan wouldn’t be the end of the world. He hasn’t betrayed you thus far, and even tried to stand up for you against Leon. So of course you would end up developing a comfortable bond with him despite the short time you’ve spent together. You don’t know what possesses you for that brief instant, but you brush your hand against his cheek. Raihan’s eyes flutter open, and he lazily looks up at you before suddenly tensing up in shock. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Whoops,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you internally wince as you make tense eye contact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that was too weird - shit - gotta defuse this before he thinks that I</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Goomies suddenly shrink, huddling together as they all spin around to one side of the clearing. You look over to whatever seems to have caught their attention so violently, only to jump to your feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wild Dragapult stares your group down, a haunting heckle reverberating around the clearing. The Goomy seem paralyzed with fear as the Dragapult stares them all down with a hungry glint in its eyes. You frown, and reach for one of the pokeballs in your pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry - these babies aren’t on the menu!” you shout out, taking an offensive stance. Dragapult hisses at you, tail flicking in aggravation underneath its levitating body. It swayed from side to side, looking for a way past you. In the corner of your eye, you can see Raihan pushing himself up, peeling off the Goomies that seemed desperate to hide around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dragapult suddenly lunges towards you, jaw wide open. You manage to dodge to the side, accidentally rolling into a puddle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not time to worry about a little mud</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you remind yourself as you make eye contact with the dragon-type once more. Raihan has effectively wedged himself between the Dragapult and the Goomy, so the aggressor hisses and growls as it tries to think up a plan. You decide that this would probably be a good time to grab Flareon’s ball. You reach down into your pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re suddenly knocked to the ground. Every bit of air is knocked from your lungs as mud flies all around you. A coughing fit begins as you try to push yourself back up, only to lock eyes with a rather pissed-off looking Dragapult. A loud, ear-splitting whirring noise beams into life as the Dragapult pulls its head back a bit. You make eye contact with some of the Dreepy in its horns, their excited yellow eyes peering from within the dark holes. You can only freeze up as you realize that the dragon is taking deadly aim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodra - Dragon Pulse!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden blast of mystic blue energy slams into the Dragapult, sending it slamming hard into a tree. You try to lift your head up, only to be pulled up from the mud and into Raihan’s embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he suddenly asks into your ear. You probably would have been flustered if you weren’t still trying to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah… I think so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks you up from the ground and jumps a few feet backwards as the Dragapult shakes off the attack. If it wasn’t mad before, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>infuriated now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re pretty tough if you’re still up and running,” Raihan calls out. “But we don’t have to hold back, now. Goodra - Rain Dance!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra comes into focus, letting out a distinct and wobbling cry into the heavens as she sways her giant tail back and forth. A sudden density in the air follows, thick with water, and clouds eventually begin to form up above. Dragapult hisses, and begins to take aim. There’s that loud motor noise again, rattling your brain. Raihan and Goodra seem entirely unaffected by it, however. The moment the first few rain droplets start to trickle down, Raihan grits his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like we practiced - hit it with Thunder!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra cries out, pulling her limbs tight into her massive body as a sudden blast of electric energy bursts from her form. It shoots up into the clouds and, in turn, barrels right down to the Dragapult. A loud blast shoots off from one of its horns before it is inevitably struck by the strike. Both the Dragapult and Goodra slam hard onto the ground. You’re entirely stunned silent. Almost nothing seems to be moving for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra suddenly lets out a bubbly whine, rolling herself upright as she shakes her head out. On the other side of the clearing, you watch in surprise as Dragapult eventually picks itself back up, only to fade away into the shadows of the forest with a fleeing baby Dreepy in toe. A sigh of relief slips from your lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Raihan suddenly is all smiles again, “that was fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, the joys of being a pokemon trainer,” you can’t help but laugh a bit. Raihan shoots you an easy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad I was able to get Goodra out in time. One millisecond later, and your head would be mush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried not to think about that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan looks over his shoulder to see the Goomies, who were still huddled together with seemingly no real way to tell where which one ended and which one began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, little guys - you should be safe for now. I hope you’re all okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few happy bubbles burst from their mouths as if to reply. Suddenly, they all made their way towards Goodra. She looked down with a more than joyful expression, making soft cooing sounds towards all the baby Goomies. You both are more than content to watch the cute interaction - that is, until you realize that Raihan’s still holding you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Raihan?” you look up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances down at you, smirking ever so slightly. You had a feeling that he knew what you were about to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, uh… You can let me down, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he lowered his head towards you, earning a blush from your cheeks. “Does me holding you like this make you nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone’s gonna be nervous, it oughta be you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can think to ask why, you reach up and pull down his headband-beanie-thing (okay, but seriously, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what is it</span>
  </em>
  <span>) over his eyes and shove his chin roughly upward with your palm. He leans back a bit too far, stumbling blindly backwards before ultimately tripping over a rock. The two of you go tumbling down in a shout. He slams hard onto the mushy ground while you slump against his chest with an audience “</span>
  <em>
    <span>OOF</span>
  </em>
  <span>”. But, you manage to recover faster than he does, pushing yourself out of his arms and standing to your feet. Raihan tugs the headband up, giving you a mischievous smirk despite his legs being spread out on top of the rock that tripped him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did I expect anything less from you?” he shook his head a bit, keeping eye contact. You shrug, and offer a hand. He gratefully accepts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you return to the cute-festival going on in the middle of the clearing. Goodra is picking up each and every Goomy, giving them a coo of undoubtedly kind words before pressing a slimy kiss onto their faces. Then she puts them down and moves on to the next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, when you said she was sweet, I didn’t realize that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> sweet,” you muse, unable to fight the smile on your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodra are naturally very friendly, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>Goodra is way beyond that. Whenever I have a pokemon that’s shy or needs rehabilitation, I always pair them up with her. She’s got great maternal instincts, I guess, and especially loves babies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does she happen to hoard babies?” you joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thankfully, no. That’d be the biggest PR nightmare - Oh Arceus, can you imagine? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hammerlocke gym leader, Raihan, responsible for mass kidnappings of babies all across Galar. All he has to say is: Goodra.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yeah, that’d be wild.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both share a laugh. By this point, Goodra has finished giving her love to the babies, and has now set her sights on the two of you humans. She waddles close, reaching with her stubby arms towards Raihan before picking him up and into her gooey embrace. How he manages to keep that relaxed smile even when it looks as though he’s getting his spine crushed is a feat unprecedented. Goodra affectionately rubs her head against his body, cooing and swaying gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-okay,” he suddenly cracks out, voice strained from being unable to breathe, “okay, Goodra, sweetheart, I need to breathe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra coos again, and gently places him back down to the ground. His entire front half is completely drenched in a thick coating of light green slime. You would’ve laughed at him if you weren’t so completely shocked by his nonchalant expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles a bit when he sees your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry - Goodra aren’t as dangerous as Goomy or Sliggoo. Their slime evolves in a way that actually can be beneficial to human skin. Makes for a great face mask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you exhale, trying to keep from laughing. “Please don’t tell me you put slime on your face at night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs, but ultimately doesn’t answer your question. Not that you really wanted that answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra sets her sights towards you. She excitedly purrs and begins to waddle towards you, arms outstretched. You raise your hands and step back a few steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I’m good!” you try to sound nice when she gives you a sorrowful cry. “It’s not you - I just, um, don’t want slime on me. You’re very sweet and kind, Goodra. Just, uh… No slime-hugs, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, oh no. Her eyes begin to well up with tears, and she shyly steps backwards. Raihan gasps and gives her a pat on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, no, no - it’s okay, sweetheart. No crying. Some people just… uh… don’t like hugs, sometimes. That’s all. Nothing wrong with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra gives a tearful coo towards her trainer before scooping him up into another bone-crushing hug. This time, you can’t help but giggle a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I get it,” you cross your arms as Goodra begins her happy sway. “Goodra does have a hoard - it’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She means well,” the dragon tamer exhales, patting the dragon on the head. “It’s kinda like having a super clingy girlfriend. Except, you know, with more slime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You have to admit, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty endearing. You take a few steps forward and offer a little pat on the head. Goodra suddenly trills at that and snatches you up. There’s no fighting it. Goodra pulls you into a tight embrace, face completely pushed up against her plush chest while your left side is completely crushed by Raihan’s comparatively hard body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the hoard~,” he sings out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra coos once more, pressing two slimy kisses onto both of you. You have half the mind to start begging for freedom when Raihan suddenly gasps. He commands Goodra to release the two of you, and before you can assess the damage done to your once clean uniform, Raihan pulls you to his side and points into the foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it’s your turn to gasp. The Goomy had slithered off in your own little love-fest, but now returned with curious glances to each other. They all were pulled into a tight circle, all facing you and Raihan. In the center, you could see an outlier - a Goomy of distinctly different coloring than the others. You gaped in awe, looking up to Raihan to see an equally amazed face. As calm as possible, he knelt down and opened his arms. The circle of Goomy slowly parted, and the tenth Goomy sibling began its slow slither toward the dragon tamer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like something out of a cheesy romance movie. Two people on opposite ends of a tropical beach, one running to the other with their arms outstretched. Love at first sight. Only, this time, it’s this amazingly chill guy and a very slimy pastel dragon-type. Were you not so stupefied, you would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gently picked up the creature, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he gazed lovingly at the creature. It gleamed a pale pink in the moonlight, letting out a few bubbles from its slimy mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After all this time,” Raihan exhaled, “countless weeks of hunting, searching, wandering, I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> found you. The elusive, amazingly rare… </span>
  <em>
    <span>shiny Goomy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It mushed its face around a few times. Again - cute, but a little creepy. Raihan didn’t seem to mind, though. He suddenly turned to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s all thanks to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” You shake your head. “This is all you, Raihan. You were the one who tracked them and found them and even rescued them. I didn’t do anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t been able to find this specific group of Goomies for the past - what - seven months? Then all the sudden, you come along, and now I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>holding one</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re definitely a good luck charm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You waved him off, instead turning your attention to the Goomy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure is a cutie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan kept looking at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Definitely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle silence fell over your shoulders. The sky had cleared up since Goodra’s Rain Dance, and calm had once again settled over the night. You looked down for a moment, only to realize that the last of the Goomy was sliding away into the bushes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey! Wait! You’re leaving your sibling!” you tried to call out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Raihan smiled, putting the Goomy down. When it didn’t budge, he hummed happily to himself. “They brought it here for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watch him pull out a pokeball - more notably, a premier ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They… wanted you to take it with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shiny pokemon aren’t only rare because pokemon are born with a low chance of having unnatural color variations, but because they often don’t survive in the wild. That’s why these Goomy were probably so hard to find. They wanted to protect their sibling, so they all kept together and kept hidden. I guess when we jumped to their rescue, they decided to trust me enough to protect their sibling. It’s… I’ve heard of things like this happening before, but I never imagined it would happen to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offered the ball to the pokemon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, little buddy,” Raihan beamed, “do you wanna come with me? If you wanna stay here, that’s fine, too. But I’ll protect you and train you up to be super strong like Goodra, here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodra cooed happily at the sound of her name. Goomy did that strange face-swirling thing and blew a few bubbles into the sky. It then promptly mashed its face onto the trigger button of the pokeball and was caught. Raihan jumped to his feet, throwing up his hands in victory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I actually got it!” He suddenly spun around to find his Rotomphone, who had been silently filming the entire event. “You saw it here, folks! I, the great Raihan, have managed to defy the odds and capture the elusive shiny Goomy here in the Lake of Outrage! So keep your eyes peeled for some snazzy shots of our pastel friend in my next upcoming posts! So, with that, everyone get some sleep while I figure out what in the world I want to start doing during my Saturday night streams. Take care, everybody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the Rotomphone ended the stream, sliding with a sigh of relief into Raihan’s pocket. Raihan peeled off his gloves and hoodie, laughing to himself all the while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make sure to take a nice, hot shower tonight,” he said once the hoodie was wrapped around his waist. “You seriously don’t want any Goomy germs to linger on you for too long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod. Raihan digs through his bag for a moment and exchanges the Goomy ball for Flygon’s. When he extends his arm to release the pokemon, however, he hesitates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh…” he trails off a bit before looking back at you. A strange look resides there on his face. Happiness, yes. Some mild confusion. But surprisingly,  a hint of sadness, there, mixed in with it all. “... I know you feel like you didn’t help all that much, but… I really do appreciate you being here. I know this isn’t exactly the best way to spend a Saturday night, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had fun. Besides, it’s nice that we get to hang out like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You notice him tense up at that. Though, it might’ve just been a trick of the light. He’s quiet for a few moments. You wonder if he’s going to ask you something, with the way he’s staring so seriously at you. When he remains silent, you decide to make the decision for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh,” you let out a yawn, “it’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired. I should probably get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh,” he seemed taken aback. “Right. Yeah, I’ll, uh… I’ll drop you off at your place. Sorry to keep you out so late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He summons Flygon, who makes some happy buzzing noises at the sight of you while Raihan returns Goodra. It’s late, and you’re more than tired, so you hardly think to be afraid when Raihan pulls you up onto Flygon and takes to the sky. It might have been your imagination, but you could have sworn Raihan’s skin felt just a bit too warm as he held you snug against his chest, as if he might have been… what, </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassed</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You hoped that you didn’t feel so warm, with the blush against your cheeks radiating under the cool of the night.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Everyone is Quite Literally Having a Terrible Time, Right About Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After the third attempt at falling asleep proved unsuccessful, Victor dragged himself out of bed. These hotels were always so uncomfortable to him; the beds were too soft and had too thick of blankets, the showers were always much too hot, and everything was so annoyingly neat that any hope of attractiveness was lost entirely. But Victor knew that those were all just his own personal qualms. He just felt that flaws added a little personality to a place, was all. Cracks in a vase gave it a story. Bruises on a rose’s delicate petal gave it empathy. Water stains on a mirror gave it life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teen took his time throwing on his clothes, making sure he looked decent despite having no intentions of being around anyone other than his partner pokemon, if even that. Once dressed and ready, he picked up his bag and snuck down the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor was used to the cold, but Circhester was way more intense than any snow day that stumbled over his home in Postwick. Hardly anyone was on the streets so late at night in such freezing conditions, albeit a couple of smokers and their pokemon. Victor tugged his beanie a little lower and ventured onward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The youth didn’t know how long he was walking down Route 9, but it was long enough for a decent snowfall to pick up around him. His exposed forearms burned with every touch of a snowflake, and his teeth chattered relentlessly within his mouth, but Victor ignored it. Pain like this never bothered him. There were worse things he had endured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could see the ocean from where he stood. Deep, dark navy water sprawling out as far as the eye could see, melting together with the heavy clouds up above. An elegant transition from a pure white town to eternal oblivion, accomplished only in a quarter of a mile. Victor couldn’t help but stare out into the nothingness, enraptured by it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is, of course, he heard the crunch of footsteps approaching from behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s awfully chilly out here,” Leon’s voice echoed into the night. “You should head back to the hotel before you catch a cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor slowly turned around. All signs of his usual jolly personality vacant from his hollow expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I did that, you would miss your chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To kill me,” the teen said as plain as day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon frowned, his cape rustling slightly in the breeze. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Leon broke the silence, looking off to the side for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve already told you. I have no plans to hurt you. So long as you behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you’ve been spying on me and Hop this whole time? To make sure I keep feeding him your lies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep him out of this,” Leon’s voice suddenly dropped an octave. His chin lowered, molten gold fierce as a volcanic eruption in his skull. “This is between you and me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor paused, taking a moment to mull over his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you endorse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you have potential as a trainer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> reason? Because even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t be so daft as to willingly give me the power to strike you down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon frowned at this, but didn’t disregard the boy’s words. He wasn’t wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... You’re right. But I wouldn’t be so sure as to think that you have what it takes to defeat me in the end. You may have potential, but I have results.” The Champion took a few cautious steps forward, testing the boy’s reaction. Victor remained still. “The public needs to be convinced that the Galar Gym Challenge is the most fulfilling experience a child can go through. Fun, educational, and most of all… worth the risk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m walking the same path my sister took...” Victor seemed remarkably calm despite the power in his words. Little did Leon notice that the youth’s fists were trembling at his sides. “...All because you want to use me as an example to the world that people would risk even </span>
  <em>
    <span>death</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the chance to win?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your refusal to forget the past is your own choice. I’m sure that the challenge would be a lot more enjoyable for everyone if you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister is </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Leon. My sister is gone and you know why. So don’t think that I’m going to sit here and play along just because you want me to. I’ll sink this entire region if it means I have the chance to see you drown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon glared at the boy. Such an unassuming child - a near splitting image of his sister. But Leon tried to ignore that fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am giving you an opportunity,” the champion enunciated painfully clear through his strained throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An opportunity for </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>, exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Closure. I figured I owe you that much. I’ve risked a lot in endorsing you, you know, but I had a feeling that you would rather figure things out for yourself rather than listening to what I have to say. But I would prefer not to have to take you out of the competition, if I can avoid it. My brother thinks very well of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks well of you, too. It’s just a shame that you don’t deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon’s jaw visibly tensed. With that, he turned on his heels and headed back into town. He had nothing more to say. Nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor remained in the cold for a little while longer. The tension in his hands slowly eased away, leaving some throbbing welts in his palms from the pressure of his nails. Once again, he turned towards the ocean, losing focus against the simplistic landscape.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll figure this out</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he affirmed in his mind, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m almost there. Just wait a little longer, Gloria.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With an ache in his heart, Victor began his slow walk back to the hotel. He figured that sleep would continue to evade him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marnie picked up on the second ring, having a bit of a huff to her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the last time,” she grumbled, “I’m on my way there. Quit buggin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t reply to my text,” he sang out, ignoring the obvious irritation in his sister’s voice. “So I called. Got me thinkin’ you were eaten up by a Bewear or somethin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m by Route 8 - ain’t no Bewear anywhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near</span>
  </em>
  <span> here. Quit playin’ dumb, Piers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just excited, is all. I finally get to battle my baby sis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, if you don’t hang up the phone and let me get some trainin’ in, you’ll finally get to be clobbered by your baby sis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, fair ‘nuff. Be safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course. I should be there in a couple a’ hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let a smile spread across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lookin’ forward to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hung up seconds later, leaving the man to chuckle a bit to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A bit impatient these days, huh</span>
  </em>
  <span>? With a bit of self-indulgent flourish, Piers pushed himself up from the couch and wandered to his bedroom, reaching into the bottom drawer to pull out his dark-type gym leader uniform. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This, he knew, would be his only chance. If he couldn’t defeat his sister and convince her to take over the gym, he could only hope that someone else would. And “hope” wasn’t exactly his thing. He got himself all together, snatching up his belt that held his pokeballs by magnetic clips and promptly pulled it on. The man couldn’t help but remember back to when Oleana tried to get him to wear gym shorts like everybody else, only for him to completely modify the entire outfit to better suit his style. When the woman hissed that the spandex was much too revealing and he needed to wear shorts over them, Piers calmly replied that having his dick on display during battles wasn’t any different than his concerts. The once calm woman has vehemently hated him ever since, almost obsessively so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, hey - look at that. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers picked up his phone once he successfully slipped into his thick white and magenta leather jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” he hummed into the receiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Piers,” she already sounded so done with his shit. Piers tended to have that effect on most reasonable people. “I do hope that preparations for your upcoming gym challengers are going accordingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More or less. What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Short and sweet. Well, maybe ‘bitter’ is a better word for it. He could hear the woman’s silent hatred growing stronger by the minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here with a request from the chairman. He is particularly in a bad mood, today - as am I. It would be wise of you to at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span> to what it is we have to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure - I don’t see how this could go horribly wrong for me in every single conceivable way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This shouldn’t be too difficult,” her voice was strained, spoken through gritted teeth. “Even for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I have a feeling that you might very well enjoy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers was suspicious, but, for once, a bit intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are to make sure the two boys endorsed by the champion absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it past your gym. Either defeat them in battle and get them disqualified, or… seek alternative methods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers frowned at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ain’t hurtin’ nobody. Especially not a couple of kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re smart about things, you shouldn’t have to. But do not leave any option unattempted. These two absolutely, positively </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> proceed any further than they already have in the competition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to explain why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not within your pay grade,” he could the venom in her words, “just do as you’re told for once in your miserable, wasteful life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, I don’t know if you’ve figured it out yet, but uh… I’m not really good at the whole rule-followin’ thing. Ain’t no way I’m treatin’ some kids different just ‘cause the chairman wants me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman went quiet for a few minutes. Piers had half the mind to hang up on her when she suddenly spoke up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve noticed that Raihan has been keeping close tabs on Marnie’s travels. It would seem as though he is very determined to provide the girl with assistance whenever possible, though it would appear as though she hardly seems to need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s tough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And on top of that, reports of various Spikemuth citizens calling themselves Team Yell has been behind numerous complaints all around the region, also coincidentally following their teen idol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re a determined lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do realize,” she hissed into the phone, lowering her voice just a bit, “that gym leader intervention and favoritism during the Gym Challenge season is prohibited. Any identifiable evidence pointing to this will inevitably lead to your dismissal from the league.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ that the champ probably ain’t doin’. You’re just lookin’ for any reason to kick me out ‘cause Rose wants Spikemuth to be nothin’ but a pile of ashes for him to rebuild for his own glory. Am I right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the reason why Spikemuth is still a heaping cesspool of filth and degradation. If you abided by the rules -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- I’d be a chained up Houndoom just like the others. I may not be doin’ the best at gettin’ my city up and runnin’, but even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t deny that I was the one who put Spikemuth back on the map. If my sis becomes gym leader, she’ll take that next big step. But if she becomes </span>
  <em>
    <span>champion</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I can assure you that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The fact that someone like her has managed to make it this far in the competition is a fluke of nature, at best. And even if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it to semifinals, Champion Leon will undoubtedly defeat her. The Chairman </span>
  <em>
    <span>tolerates</span>
  </em>
  <span> your antics because he finds it amusing. He wouldn’t dare let anyone like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> your sister become champion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers snickered darkly, glaring into the nothing as if she were there to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think your little rules and probabilities mean somethin’ to us? The odds have always been against us, and yet we’re still alive and hittin’. Just you wait ‘n see. One day, your little Tower to Arceus is gonna fall, and it’s gonna fall </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I, for one, can’t wait to see it happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another silence. This time, Piers lets himself enjoy the final ring of his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you continue to be a nuisance to the chairman, and I will have no choice but to proceed with alternative methods of getting you to comply.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Tch, yeah, sure. You wouldn’t be so bold as to risk touchin’ Marnie with all the witnesses around her. Spikemuth may be a shit-show, but folks’ll still listen to what we gotta say. You can’t do nothin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I can’t. But someone else can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers didn’t need to be told who she was referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, right. Leon’s got better things to do than to stalk little girls. Even that sod has morals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That hasn’t stopped him from obeying the chairman’s orders before. Though, now that I think about it, Miss Gloria might appreciate the company of your precious sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers froze up. The weight of Oleana’s words suddenly dropped into his stomach like a boulder crashing into the ocean. He recognized that name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the name of the challenger who had suddenly disappeared five years ago. They never found a body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span> - hey, what’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to mean?” he shouted into the phone. “What the hell did Leon </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this meeting short -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No you ain’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>- tell me what he did!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope to hear back soon that the two boys have been dropped from the competition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuckin’ tell me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the line had been dropped. Piers stared in cold disbelief at the device, the black screen revealing the utter horror written all over his face. Of course he knew that the champion did whatever it was the chairman asked of him. But something like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Piers hoped that he was just overreacting, that this wasn’t as terrible as it seemed. But like I said before, he had never been the hopeful sort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers bolted out of the house, cursing himself profusely. The echoed ringing of his metallic boots sliced into the air, catching the attention of a few gym trainers that were practicing down in the cage arena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close the gates!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the iron fence. The trainers spun around to him, clearly startled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>close the fuckin’ gates</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” the gym leader hissed out. “Ain’t nobody gettin’ into Spikemuth unless I say so!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, Boss,” another trainer stepped forward, clearly as confused as the other two, “challengers should be walkin’ in any time now -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I fuckin’ stutter? Close the gates. Make sure nobody gets in unless it’s Marnie, ya hear? And if you see any shifty lookin’ motherfucker who don’t belong here, ya better fuckin’ do somethin’, else I’ll fuckin’ pummel every last one of ya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They assumed that he wouldn’t actually pummel them, but the mere expression on his face made them pause to doubt that assumption. Without another word, the three trainers scrambled out of the cage, pokemon in tow, as Piers watched. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I knew they’d try and do somethin’ like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should’a never let her go out there!</span>
  </em>
  <span> But a somber sigh escaped his lips as he walked around to walk through the cage’s entrance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But that wouldn’t be fair to Marn, I guess… I can only hope that those boys give up while they have the chance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But, again, he had never been the hopeful sort. He jumped up onto the stage, pulled up his signature mic stand, and waited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As for you, training is going pretty smoothly, for once. Everyone is listening to your commands as reliably as ever, you’re still standing strong after two hours of working out, and the weather has been slightly overcast and gentle overall. Your gym challenge team was currently fighting against Vaporeon in hopes of working out a strategy against type advantages. And so far, so good. And now with the Champion Cup coming up in the next couple weeks, you were ready to add another member into the fray. Forced to comply with the tradition of monotyping, you needed a pokemon that would add a bit more variety to your team while still meeting the requirements as an acceptable fire-type. So, you ended up stopping by your favorite little nursery (mostly to check on Vulpix, who was making slow but steady steps towards gaining a few extra pounds) and picked up a particularly sweet-natured Chandelure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“A ranger found her in the old Watchtower Ruins,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the soft-voiced owner explained as Chandelure dangled just out of your arms reach, playing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We think she was abandoned. She’s much too sweet to have grown up with all the other ghost-types there. If you’re calm about it, she’ll even let you hold her. Just remember to mind the flames.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> True to his words, Chandelure eventually did descend into your awaiting palms, a soft hum wavering out from somewhere within her body. There definitely was no way you were going to leave without her, at this point, so you filled out the paperwork and adopted the pokemon, giving the nursery owner your word that you would train her up well enough to compete in the Champion Cup. Seeing as she was already fully-evolved, you had no doubt that she would be an excellent addition to your team.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she was. Shy and hesitant at first, she opted to merely observe a few battles between your pokemon for the first thirty minutes. But with the strange jingling sound ringing around inside her body, the way she moved from shoulder to shoulder with her eyes glued on the action in front of you both, you knew that she had a love for battling like the rest of your team. And hey, maybe her sweetness would rub off on the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Salazzle pretended that she didn’t even notice Chandelure, but judging by the irritated flicks of her tail, you knew that she was just being finicky. Arcanine gave her a few sniffs and that was it. Flareon, the more sociable one of your team, gave a few happy yips and eagerly wanted to play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, guys,” you brought everyone back together again, “I know it’s a bit of a change. But we definitely need another member for the team if we want to make a good impression during the Champion Cup. I’m confident that Chandelure is gonna be just what we need to really show everyone out there what we’re made of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to motivate everyone. Which brings us back to the training with Vaporeon. At the moment, you were working with Arcanine, who managed to land a successful Fire Blast on the water-type. You smiled when Vaporeon just shook it off, standing back on his feet like he was merely pushed to the ground while Arcanine collected his breath. You knew well enough how much Vaporeon ached to be back on the battlefield, and knew he was more than strong enough to take a few rough hits. He was the second strongest pokemon from your original team back in Hoenn, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vaporeon let out a loud howl, pulling water from thin air that began to wrap around his waist like magical water rings. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aqua Ring</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you affirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arcanine, rush in with Extreme Speed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine obeys, galloping forward with a sudden blast of energy. Vaporeon attempts to dodge, but is just a tad late; he gets knocked off his feet and tumbles off to the side. Before Arcanine can hope to land another attack, Vaporeon lets out a forceful blast of water. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hydro Pump</span>
  </em>
  <span> - just as you felt that thought pass through you, Arcanine is blasted from his attack and slams hard onto the ground. When he doesn’t immediately get up, Vaporeon trots over to inspect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grab a revive and a max potion, and make your way towards the fallen comrade. Vaporeon is giving a few kisses to Arcanine’s ear, perhaps in apology. You snap the yellow crystal in half and crumble it up in your fingers, nostrils already being assaulted by the intense odor that begins to seep out. You raise it to Arcanine’s snout, and he bolts up, looking rather miffed at the realization that he fainted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, buddy,” you gave him a pat as you began to spray his wounds with the potion. “You did really great out there. You know how strong Vaporeon is, and you lasted the longest out of everybody. That counts for something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcanine huffed, digging his snout into the turf. You laughed and gave him a good pat on the head. Suddenly, both Arcanine’s and Vaporeon’s ears perked up, eyes shooting up to look behind you. A low growl began to emanate from Arcanine as you turned around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That Vaporeon really packs a punch,” Leon gave one of his signature blinding smiles, though it hardly fazed you now that you knew what hid beneath it, “It’s a right shame you don’t get to use him in gym battles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” you don’t hide the annoyance in your voice. Today was going </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> well, and now he was here to most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>ruin</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Fan-fucking-tastic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon is shocked by your words, stopping in his tracks before shaking it off and continuing forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just happened to be flying over and caught sight of your training. I thought I’d drop in.” Apparently, the look you gave him proved that you thought otherwise, because he followed that up with: “What, you don’t believe me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear?” you pushed yourself to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t like you, you don’t like me - what’s the disconnect here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said that I didn’t like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also don’t believe that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t trust me at all, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Leon - you haven’t exactly made it easy for me. You constantly harass me, you can’t decide on what kind of personality you want to have around me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re letting me be used for some crazy mad lab experiment. Don’t act so surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at you in silence for a few moments. You couldn’t find any discernible emotion there in those amber eyes. He eventually let out a long, heavy sigh, glancing at the ground for a couple of breaths before looking back into your eyes. Something must have gone through his mind, because now he wore a new expression. There was a hint of a smile on his face; he looked, dare you say, a bit impressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I’ve said this before, but it’s not often that people are so determined to push back against me. Most people step down when they realize that it’s a fight that they’ll never win. Unless... you actually think you can beat me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doubt it,” you say without hesitation. “But I sure as hell am not about to let you win so easily. I’ve come too far to let someone like you ruin everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses again. Slowly, the champion takes a few more gradual steps towards you. You plant your feet into the ground, even as he’s right up in front of you. A part of you wants to punch him right in his dumb, gorgeous face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you Dynamax?” his voice suddenly deep and quiet. Those eyes of his searched your entire face. You were sure he could see into your very soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit being stubborn and just tell me. I’ll find out eventually so just -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then figure it out that way. See if I fucking care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated a bit before speaking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather hear it from you, first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m willing to bet that the chairman already knows everything there is to know about me, so why don’t you just ask him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon nods, a dark grimace falling grimly onto his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll only tell me whatever it is he deems fit. Everything else is saved for when he needs a little extra convincing. But… I’d rather hear your side of the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though you know the hatred in his eyes is not directed entirely towards you, it’s still a bit daunting to see it so close. There’s so much restraint tensing up in his body. It looks almost painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if I told you,” you lean in just a bit, feeling his breath against your skin. “It won’t matter. No matter what anyone says or does or means, at the end of the day, you’re at the mercy of Rose. I used to have faith that you’d do the right thing even knowing that, but you’ve made it more than clear that you aren’t the good guy here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then who is?” he whispered, the intensity in his voice faltering just enough for you to notice. You don’t let your surprise show. Instead, you brush past him, making your way towards the end of the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever dies first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were sure Leon watched you all the while, eyes trained on the back of your head up until the moment you disappeared down the pitch. You wondered what sort of face he made when you told him that. You wondered why you cared.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Hey, Remember When This Was a Cute and Fluffy Romance? Yeah, Me Neither</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fluff? Lol I don't know her</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Before you knew it, it was September. You laid in your bed, giving yourself just five minutes longer before you would ultimately need to get up to train, and let the past few months wash through your mind’s eye like a movie montage. You became gym leader, you became friends with Raihan, you became friends with Leon, you then later became sort of frenemies with Leon, you made a curious almost-friends-but-not-really type relationship with Piers, you then became full-on enemies with Leon, and now… here you were. You hadn’t expected to go through so much in seemingly such little time, and you were starting to get the impression that your ongoing storyline was still making a mad-dash towards some impending climax. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What could be a bigger climax than watching the almost-end of the world?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You tried to laugh at that thought, you really did. But it wouldn’t come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, there comes that familiar pain in your chest. Even after all these years, you still couldn’t manage to move past what quite possibly had been the day you died. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> that everyone in Galar had come to know suddenly felt like nothing more than just a husk, a soulless body that continues to wander onwards because it truly has nothing better to do. A concept devoid of humanity that cannot be allowed to lie down and rot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as the terrible heart palpitations grew more fervent in your ribcage, you couldn’t will your arms to grab Vaporeon’s ball from your nightstand. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> he would make you feel better, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> that you eventually would need to feel better. And yet still you remained staring up at the ceiling, trying desperately to cry tears that refused to make an appearance. You just wanted five minutes of honesty for once - no more mirroring people’s personalities, no more smiling brilliantly for the cameras. Just a person who wanted nothing more than to express how they truly felt. And boy, howdy, did you feel fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>abysmal</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You eventually did end up getting up, albeit ten minutes later than you were supposed to. Your chest hurt, your eyes hurt, your muscles hurt - fuck, training suddenly didn’t seem like such a fun idea anymore. But you knew that you would need to put on a good show for everybody back home during the Champion Cup, at the very least, so there was no room for laziness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, as per your daily routine, you took a shower, got dressed, made a somewhat mediocre breakfast, and began to ready your bag with all that you needed for the day. As you reached for another cold water bottle from across the table, though, you ended up knocking over your bag, spilling all the contents out. You let out a groan, sinking to your knees with an overdramatic pout on your face. You picked up all that scattered across the floor - water bottles, max potions, energy bars, Eon Flute, pokeballs -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How…” you pulled the flute up to your face, trying to figure out if you were seeing things. No, this definitely was your Eon Flute. “...How did this end up here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was cool to the touch, its black and red body reflecting a dull matte from beneath your fluorescent lights above. Your fingers instinctively set themselves over the holes, pulling the mouth of the instrument closer to your lips…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pulled away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nope, no, no - absolutely not - we don’t need this right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You stuffed the flute into a deep pocket of the bag. A part of you wanted to just leave it on the table, but this wasn’t an item that you really want to leave around. So, in the bag it goes. You’d deal with it later. For now, you finished packing up your things and started out towards the stadium.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gee, sure are a lot of reporters out there,” Hop mused, peeking out the window. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t be so surprised with it being so late in the competition, but still! I’m getting all excited just looking!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll probably have to use the back entrance,” noted Victor, who was busy taking inventory of all the necessary healing items he’d quite possibly need during the match, “because if we get caught, we’ll be answering questions long after our names are called up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right. But then afterwards, interview time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just don’t steal the lady’s microphone this time, alright, Hop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop blushed in embarrassment, scratching the side of his cheek as he passed his best friend a shy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right, of course, mate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor couldn’t fight the grin that worked its way onto his face. Hop tended to have that effect on people; his smile was always so infectious. He would make a fine champion if he could just keep himself a bit more focused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused, eyes staring down at the max potion in his left hand. Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> - if Hop became champion, that would mean the end of Leon’s career. That would definitely be good. And, not to mention, Hop had potential to become the next most adored individual in the region; there’s no way that the public wouldn’t fall for his charms and innocence the same way they did when Leon began (if they hadn’t already). Victor knew for a fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> adored Hop in every way, shape, and form. He would be a great champion. But then came the terrible dread. If Hop became champion, he would undoubtedly learn about the vile underbelly that was the Galar League. Neither Victor nor Leon would be able to stop reality from completely ripping away every semblance of innocence from the boy’s heart. What would remain? Would Hop even still be Hop if he discovered the people he built his dreams on were hiding such terrible truths? What else would he rant on about if not Leon, when he inevitably discovers that his brother perhaps might be a terrible human being? Victor knew that Hop held such a tender, loving heart - he would fall apart if he found out that everything he loved was all sorts of wrong. That was the one thing that Victor agreed with Leon on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hop can’t become champion,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Leon said, catching the teen’s attention once more. “I can’t see him watch his entire world get destroyed like that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Victor glared at the man, the same man he once used to look up to. The brilliance of his smile was gone, now, leaving only a vacant, stoic grimace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then why did you endorse him?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I… I was worried about him. He won’t outright say it, but I know it bothers him so much how differently everyone treats him and I. Even when there’s miles between us, I think he feels like he’s trapped in my shadow. I didn’t want him to think that’s how I want him to stay. I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t understand.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t</span>
  <em>
    <span> understand,” Victor nearly growled, but kept his composure. “Hop’s been right ragged since he first lost against Bede. He thinks so highly of you, that he feels like just him existing is dragging your name through the mud. You don’t know what he’s going through. And frankly, I don’t think you care.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I do care,” cried the champion, a sudden welt of emotion rising up in his throat. “I do. I care so much about him. He’s my little brother. I’d do anything for him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because you like the attention. You like the adoration. The mere idea that he might reject you once he finds out who you really are probably keeps you up at night.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon was silent, at that. Victor may be a child, but he was a clever one. He could see right through the champion, right down to the rawness of his very soul. Only one other person in this world really could see Leon for who he was, but the man tried not to think about that. He didn’t want to see your face in his mind’s eye right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Victor gave a slight frown, shaking his head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“At first, I wanted nothing to do with this awful game you call a gym challenge. But seeing Hop so excited, I couldn’t tell him no when he asked me to qualify with him. Then, you endorse us, and we go our merry way. I thought this would be a good time to finally move on, spend time with Hop, and just live. But you took that away from me, too.” Leon opened his mouth to speak, but Victor cut him off. “Why, when you’ve already taken my sister and my happiness away from me, are you asking me to hurt my best friend?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not asking you to hurt him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hop is determined. He’ll fight as hard as he can to win this competition, and I don’t see him losing in any of the gyms yet, so that won’t be what does it. You’re asking me to beat him in a match. You’re asking me to crush his dreams for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know this is a lot to ask -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It is a lot to ask!” Victor suddenly snapped, voice cracking under the weight of his volume. “It’s a lot to ask and it’s the </span>
  </em>
  <span>worst</span>
  <em>
    <span> thing to ask. I don’t owe you anything. You’re… you’re just a coward. You’re a coward and a criminal and the fact that Hop doesn’t know any of that makes me so mad that I can’t even see straight.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon turned his face. He couldn’t bear to look at the teen any longer. Not when he looked so much like that girl. The champion felt his hands trembling at his sides, emotion pumping like fire through his veins - only to realize that he wasn’t angry. He raised a hand to his left cheek, letting his palms wipe away the tear that threatened to spill over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“... I just want to protect him. Please. Please help me protect my brother. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Victor was still for so long that Leon worried he had completely vanished. But when he pulled himself together enough to look back at the teen, he saw that Victor was rubbing his eyes. The reason as to why remained unanswered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“... Okay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor let out an unconscious sigh. It felt like so long ago since that conversation in Stow-in-Side. The rage he felt back then came and went, leaving only a boy who felt much older than he actually was. How could he have hoped for such a fun experience? This was the very same path his sister took five years ago, and Victor couldn’t resist the pull of the bread crumbs she left behind. Just when he thinks he’s gone and figured something out, more questions pop into his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For what reason was Gloria determined to continue doing the gym challenge despite constantly voicing her disinterest in becoming champion or a gym leader? What prompted Gloria to become so interested in battle enhancers, Dynamax especially? Why had she stopped using it halfway through her gym challenge? Why did she distrust Macro Cosmos so intently? What happened to her? What had she found?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small throbbing pain started up behind his eye. Here he was, working himself into another headache. But his curious mind would only wander further until it received the answers it craved. Victor briefly wondered if that trait was what spelled the end for Gloria before packing up the rest of his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is there something I’m missing?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nope, looks like everything. But then the thought continued further, the youth hardly realizing that he was no longer thinking about healing items. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe there’s someone I can talk to, someone to help me put the pieces into a new formation. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Leon most definitely knew all the answers, but wouldn’t talk any time soon. Many of the other gym leaders didn’t even recognize him, much less his sister when he tried to bring her up in casual conversation. The youth ran through all of his interactions, hoping to find something of worth until something popped into his mind. His match with the fire-type gym leader - </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> - had been unusual compared to all the others. He thought to ask you about it after the match, but he was told that you weren’t accepting visitors. He had shrugged it off as just post-defeat shame, only to realize something very important. You didn’t wear the standard black-and-white Dynamax band; you wore a gold one. That would mean it didn’t come from Professor Magnolia. Which would consequently mean that you likely received it from the only other holder of Dynamax-capable Wishing Stars: Macro Cosmos. Also known as the company that Gloria began to voice apprehension towards just before her disappearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-hah,” Victor suddenly beamed. Hop looked over his shoulder, a quizzical look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Are you thinking out loud again, Victor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit. Why don’t we make our way to the stadium? I’d like to start running through my strategy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop nodded, grabbing his own bag from the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds ace, mate! We’ll to use everything we know if we want to beat the Hammerlocke gym leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop’s smile was brilliant. Victor couldn’t help but indulge in it a little longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few hours of training, the pain started swelling up again all through your body and forced you to end practice a bit earlier than you wanted. Chandelure was just getting the hang of her Will-o-Wisp technique, finally managing to land a decent burn on Vaporeon just this last attempt. But then Arcanine started getting fussy again and began barking at nothing, and then you started to feel dizzy, so you all decided that you would wrap things up. But, you didn’t exactly want to go home early again for the fourth day in a row, so you opted to watch a few of the volunteers (the same ones who worked during the gym challenge in your puzzle section) practice a few drills with their own pokemon. You didn’t want to intervene too much, but on the occasion, you would voice your advice and cheers when it was appropriate. They seemed to appreciate it well enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the heat started getting to you, so you headed inside the stadium and locked yourself into your office. It was nice and cool inside, so you decided to just rest up on the couch before heading out for the day. You got nice and comfortable on the plush red cushions, only to realize that you didn’t really feel like napping. Huh. That’s a first. You frowned a bit, turning onto your side and digging out your phone. Well, at least you had the internet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then you got the brilliant idea: Hey, even though it’s late in the competition, why not watch today’s Gym Challenge stream? It was a little after noon, so no doubt kids would still be fighting in Hammerlocke today. Yeah, that sounded fun to watch. Maybe you’d get to see if Victor, Hop, and Marnie were still going strong, and wanted to see just how much they’ve improved since your last battle with them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that I really even remember those matches - damn you, VMax.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You jumped onto the League website and pulled up the stream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to sit through a couple of trainers you didn’t recognize before you saw Hop’s number get called. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s still in,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you smiled, seeing his sunny expression blossom to life as he greeted the cameras. Raihan gave his introduction and explanation, and the puzzle segment started not long after. You laughed a bit watching Hop struggle a bit with the double battle format; it was always challenging to keep an eye out for two pokemon at the same time during double battles. They were definitely more common in Hoenn. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> remembered how gym puzzles were more like actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>puzzles</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Hoenn rather than </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> fighting trainers, but you shrugged that aside. Still made for good media.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop managed to survive, and eagerly made his way to the locker rooms to prepare while the announcers discussed his performance. Overall, it seemed as though people had a good view of the boy, constantly voicing their captivation with his cheery nature and their interest in his clever battle style. Though, they were comparing him too much to his brother for your liking. Those two just felt so different - Hop seemed so genuine, while Leon… eh… let’s not put you in a bad mood by even thinking about him, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop’s time to battle Raihan came quick enough. Now, you had seen a handful of Raihan’s battles before, and they never failed to energize you. He was always so fierce, filled with energy and power that could almost cause paralysis. And yet, Hop stood tall on the other side of the field, using his wits and strategy to make it through the more brutal moments of Raihan’s weather game. You couldn’t help but smile when you learned that Wooloo had evolved into a strong-looking Dubwool. Thankfully, the boy managed to defeat the dragon tamer, who took his defeat as cooly as you’d expect.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s a good kid - shame that he’s related to that asshole.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hop exited the field in a hurry, exclaiming that he’ll answer interview questions only after he watches his best friend compete. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next you watch Victor. He has quite the unique battle style, using a considerable amount of status and stat moves that you didn’t expect. Kids don’t normally opt for that style, usually taking on a more offensive stand like Hop did previously. But Victor’s pokemon prove themselves strong and durable enough to make the extra set of moves worth it, and it definitely makes for a compelling set of matches. Even more contrasting with Hop is Victor’s presentation, he’s relaxed and totally at ease, opening his mouth only to call out quick commands to his team. Where Hop was amped up and running all over the place, Victor kept still and showed no emotion. In a way, it was very similar to the famous Champion Red’s behavior on the field (at least based on what you’ve seen from his matches). The crowd thoroughly enjoyed his performance, especially, despite many of the announcers voicing their apprehensions with his seemingly bland personality. Another good kid, you knew, even if he could be a bit strange at times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple matches later, and you finally see Marnie. The tech crew has to raise the volume of the announcers because a large group of what appears to be Marnie’s fans (Team Yell, as someone mentions) starts blasting loud music and using loud noise makers from the crowd. She gives an expressionless wave before jumping into the fray. She’s almost the perfect mixture of Hop and Victor’s styles - cool and collected, but still offensive and commanding. One of the announcers mentioned that she was initially heckled for her use of a Morpeko in a competitive team, only for her to later win three battles back-to-back after her match in Hulbury with no items and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>the use of Morpeko. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s a right beast!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Even against Raihan, she kept her bearings and pulled out a quite thrilling victory in the end. The crowd chanted her name long after she bid her farewells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With three powerful trainers now advancing into the semifinals, you couldn’t help but wonder who would win in the end. Hop had the most visible potential of the bunch - he was strong and wild and had the perfect personality for the camera. However, you could tell during his match with Raihan that the occasional screw-up on his end causes him to get caught up in the little things. He might be prone to getting embarrassed, which isn’t exactly the best thing to happen during an important battle. Victor proved himself to be the most creative and spontaneous on the field, which was exactly what you loved about battling. But his problem not only lied in his marketability, but also in his risk-taking. Status- and stat-changing moves were great when you needed a little something extra to win a match, but he relied a little bit too much on them. Marnie sat somewhere in the middle of those boys, being a healthy mixture of confident and spontaneous in battle. But in that perfect mixture, you could see just the smallest hint of indecision. She would hesitate ever so slightly before calling attacks, and while they tended to be good calls, every good trainer knows that hesitation could be a very dangerous mistake. You knew that especially well. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that’s enough of that for today. I’ll be seeing them all again for the Champion Cup in a couple weeks - maybe I’ll give ‘em a little pep talk, then, too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, much to your surprise, your phone rang. You glanced down, seeing Raihan’s contact image reflecting back at you. With a comfortable smile on your face, you answered the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Raihan, what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice that said your name was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely not Raihan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to call you from this phone - this is Victor. We met briefly in Motostoke after the Opening Ceremony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um, yeah, I remember. Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, don’t worry - I asked Raihan to let me borrow his phone for a moment. I, well… I need to ask you something. If that’s alright with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sit up a bit on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize it at first, but... during our match in Motostoke… That wasn’t Dynamax you used, was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paled. You glanced around the room, as if something around would give you an idea as to what to say to this kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um, well… It’s, uh, it’s technically Dynamax, just, um… A different version, that’s all. I’ll be honest and say that I don’t really know all the nitty-gritty details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy was silent for a few moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course…” he sounded disappointed. “Well, if you want, or if you find some information about it, perhaps you can give me a call before the Champion Cup takes place. I’m… well… nevermind that. Here’s my number in case you find anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He promptly listed out his personal phone number, which you recorded into your contact list. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something you’re looking for?” you decided to ask. He’s only a child - what could he possibly be looking for, here? He paused for a moment before sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smile a bit. Those words were very familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. I really hope you find what it is you’re looking for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ended the call, and you laid back into the couch. He sounded awfully determined, for a while there, only to catch himself and pull back. You knew someone doing some underground research when you saw it. You’ve done some serious investigations in your day. You could only wish that this kid would be more successful than you were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were just falling asleep when your phone rang for the second time that day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooo, I’m popular</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you jokingly mused as you answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Um…” You immediately recognized the nervous voice on the other side of the line. “Hey, uh… Sorry to bother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no biggie. What’s up, Piers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh… I just…” A sudden sigh from the other side caught you off-guard. There was just the tiniest hint of a tremble in his voice. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but… I’d really appreciate your company, right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden blush ran across your cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-not like that!” he exclaimed, no doubt looking red, himself. “I mean… It’s just… I’m a bit of a mess right now, and Raihan’s busy, and you were the only other person I could think of, and I really don’t think I should be alone right now, and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, it’s totally fine. I get it. Just, uh, gimme a few minutes and I’ll be right there, alright? Do you need me to stay on the phone with you, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s fine…” He sounded so desperate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did something happen?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I didn’t mean to, uh… I’ll be fine ‘til you get here. Just, please…” he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Hold on tight, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave out the fainted </span>
  <em>
    <span>“‘kay”</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’d ever heard before you hesitantly ended the call. Okay, first Victor’s weird question and </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> Piers’ weird request? You hoped that these two oddities were unrelated. Without wasting any more time, you raced out of the stadium and jumped into a flying taxi. You kept replaying his timid words over and over again in your mind. They caught you entirely off-guard; his words sounded so foreign with that depressed tone of voice. You knew that sound well enough, the sound that someone was slowly but surely giving up. There was no time to waste.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Now Who the FUCK is Playin' Tears for Fears Up in Here?!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heh.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite it being summertime, a light drizzle had begun to fall by the time you landed before the gates of Spikemuth. There seemed to be significantly less people out of the streets, now, but the sensation of being watched still pricked against the hairs of your arms. You ignored the fact that your hair and clothes were getting annoyingly damp as you attempted to call the man again, hoping to make sure that he was okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit…” was all you could manage before you felt your heart accelerate painfully in your chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, okay, calm down - it’s gonna be fine. He’s gonna be fine. I just gotta find him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You wandered further down the street before you realized that you really had no idea where you were going. Eyes looking all around, you forced yourself to try and find </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> that looked familiar. Just smeared graffiti and flickering streetlights, stretching out into the unknown all around you. And to make matters worse, you thought you could hear a pair of footsteps approaching you from behind. In a fit of frustration, you spun around, holding Arcanine’s ball in front of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s there?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A scoff rang out from the shadows, and slowly, a tall woman in tattered street clothes slid under the light. She (like seemingly everyone around you) was much taller than you, a natural-looking sneer resting comfortably on her sharp features. Her hair was cut short and ragged, her bare arms covered in what looked like cigarette burns and tattoos, and a large scar sprawled across her entire stomach just above her low-rise jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the Motostoke gym leader, ain’t cha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frowned a bit, but managed a nod. While it didn’t feel like the greatest thing in the world to be recognized here, you didn’t want to waste time changing out of your uniform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” she suddenly snatched your arm, pulling you down the street. Just as you opened your mouth to protest, she glanced down at you with a serious frown. “Piers’ down at Roki’s Bar. Been sayin’ your name for a while, askin’ us to come find ya. So put a sock in it, will ya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hardly waits to see your startled face, picking up the pace as she takes a sharp left turn. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did he go to the bar instead of coming to find me first?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You figured that he just wasn’t all in his right mind at the moment and probably really wanted to drink. A part of you began to worry that maybe you weren’t exactly the most qualified person for this exact scenario.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you march into the bar, which seems to be relatively full with a notable crowd around the bar. Upon hearing the woman’s voice yelling at everyone to scram, the crowd breaks, and there you see a very disheveled Piers slumped against the bartop. He’s got an entire bottle of what appears to be tequila in his hand, and you can hear him groaning nonsense against the smooth wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, get up,” the woman pulls the bottle from his grip. “Your friend’s here - go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me what to do,” he slurred out, attempting to lift his head for a moment before it ultimately slammed right back down onto the other cheek. “You ain’t my mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes, gave you a look of ‘Have fun with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, and proceeded to exit the bar. Piers was back to groaning more gibberish, eyes tightly shut as a pool of drool began to form on the table. Gross. You looked up to the bartender, who seemed to the most relaxed person in the immediate area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has he been here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be best to figure out how long he’s been drinking, try and guess his blood-alcohol ratio so you can come up with a battle plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Bout thirty minutes. Give ‘r take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slumped a bit. That meant he probably came here right after his call with you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great, that’s fucking great</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Never a good sign when someone’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasted after only thirty minutes of drinking. Thank goodness that lady took his drink, because now that you really look at him, Piers looks two breaths away from death. Definitely time to bail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooo</span>
  <em>
    <span>kay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Piers,” you try to sit him up. He’s not that crazy heavy, but you’re not that crazy strong. It’s a challenge, but you manage to get him slumped against your shoulder. “Time to go, man. Let’s go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?” he muttered out, almost hopefully. “Why? Marn ain’t there, so why…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trails off, humming softly as you somehow pull him off the stool and get his feet steady on the ground. A few people turn to give you pitiful looks as you pull the man’s arm across your shoulder, using all your core strength to keep the two of you upright. A part of you wonders if Piers does this often, but judging from the concern in even the faces of thugs, you begin to assume that he doesn’t. He’s humming and mumbling but you can’t understand him as you carry the two of you out of the establishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drizzle is a decent rainfall, now; only two minutes of walking down the street and you’re completely soaked. At least it isn’t the hot and sticky kind of summer storm like the ones back home. This rain made things slick, sure, but it wasn’t gross. You grabbed tightly onto Piers’ waist, trying to ignore how you could feel a surprisingly </span>
  <em>
    <span>solid</span>
  </em>
  <span> he felt beneath your fingertips, and walked a little faster down the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me where to go?” you heave, trying to keep air in your lungs. Piers lifted his head a bit, obviously trying to keep himself steady. He doesn’t have much luck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Straight forward,” he murmurs, “...’s just down the street.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay… We’ll get you home, okay? Just try and help me out a bit, here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers tries to straighten up, but stumbles, sending the two of you scrambling to the side. You manage to keep standing, by some miracle, and keep your eyes focused on the street ahead of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers, however, is entirely in his own world. He can’t seem to focus on anything. The ground sways violently beneath his feet, and even the numbing power of booze wasn’t enough to take away the terrible dread in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I screwed up,” you heard him sigh from beside you. He sank a little bit as if about to fall to the ground, but you grunted in an attempt to pull him back up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay - don’t worry about it. I got this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” he shook his head, the tremble in his voice returning from out of the blue. “The kids, they…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You risked a glance towards him. His eyes looked red, but he didn’t seem to be crying despite how heavily he was breathing. Immediately, you had a feeling that you knew exactly who he was talking about. It sent shivers down your spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was s’possed to stop ‘em… But they got past me. And now… Rose’ll hurt all of ‘em. He’ll hurt </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marnie</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And I can’t do nothin’ to stop it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sank down again, but you tugged him back up. You held onto this wreck of a man so tightly, a part of you worried that you’d leave bruises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s gonna happen. It’s gonna be fine, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they take Marnie away, I’ll really have nothin’. She’s all I got. Please - if I lose her, then…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t think like this,” you tried to comfort him, but you worried that he wasn’t listening, looking at the way his eyes looked so dull and glazed over. “Marnie will be okay. She’s a smart kid, and is plenty strong. I think she proved that today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly looked at you, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… you watched her match?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you gave him a gentle smile. “She has a strong connection with her pokemon, and an even greater connection with her sense of strategy. They all are smart kids…” Though you know that it might be a stretch, you say the next few words. “...I think Rose and his lackeys would have a pretty hard time trying to wrangle them all, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers snickered, a weak smile slipping onto his face as he looked back out towards the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... S’pose so...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile is enough to give you a tiny speck of courage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And besides, even if he</span>
  <em>
    <span> did</span>
  </em>
  <span> try to do something, we’d run over there and stop him, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...We?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Even if it’s just you and me. You don’t have to be alone in this, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While you kept looking forward, Piers found himself stuck staring at you. A wave of disbelief clouded over the threatening nausea in his body. Once your words startled to process themselves in his mind, something began to pull deep inside of him. Perhaps in his stomach, perhaps in his chest - he wasn’t sure from where it began. But it was enough to pull the dark veil from over his eyes for a moment to see everything in a different kind of light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to be the way holding him upright with a grip that told him that you wouldn’t let go. Or maybe it was how the rain slid down your cheeks and neck in all the ways he wanted his lips to. Or, better yet, it might have been the way your eyes reflected with just enough determination underneath the dim, flickering light of a streetlight that bathed your person in a warm golden glow. Piers felt all the air leave his lungs in that instant, doing nothing to stop all his previous apprehension and callousness from dissolving in the rain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gasped as his foot caught on something beneath him - surely he would’ve slammed straight into the concrete below if you hadn’t pulled him up just in time. With a warm smile and a whispered reminder of your presence, you tugged him along the road. Piers could only look up at you with stars in his eyes, wondering how you managed to look so beautiful amidst such an ugly reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You finally made it to his house. It took a few times of saying his name for you to actually pull the man out of his strange and sudden daze, but he eventually pulled out his keys and unlocked the front door. The two of you stumbled inside, tripping on the threshold yet again and falling sideways. Piers muttered out an apology when he accidentally slammed you against the wall, but didn’t make any attempt to move. Nor did he seem to realize that he was staring rather intently at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” you gave a nervous laugh, trying to avoid that strange look in his eyes. “Well, uh, let’s get you into some dry clothes and, uh, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He silently nodded, and moved just an inch to let you slide free. You began to drag him towards the couch when suddenly he made a low groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bathroom</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he gasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t need to be told twice. As if holding a ticking time bomb, you pulled the poor man into the bathroom just down the hall and helped him down to his knees just as his entire insides exploded into the toilet. Definitely didn’t sound all that fun. A part of you felt bad for seeing him like this, especially since you got all your barfing done out of his view when the roles were reversed. But you knew better than to just walk away. So, you gathered your resolve and knelt down beside him, pulling his long hair away from his face and gently rubbed circles into his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” you cooed, trying to sound reassuring as he violently threw up quite possibly gallons of booze into the porcelain dish. “You’ll feel better when it’s over, shh, you’re doing great…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept trying to say something, but was constantly interrupted by his own hacking fit. A couple times, he finally settled down, trying to catch his breath and relax for a few seconds before suddenly falling back into another round of painful-looking dry heaving. All the while, you remained there, holding his fringe away from the splash area and occasionally running your fingers through his long ponytail. Hey, you figured that this would be the only chance to actually touch his hair, so why not? It was crazy thick, but also remarkably silky smooth. He probably took better care of his hair than you did to your own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he coughed out, obviously trying to hide the tremors that shook his body, “this fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but it’s almost over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” his words came out in a hasty gasp. He tried to stop the next dry heaving fit, but it was a determined little shit. “I’m sorry you gotta deal - </span>
  <em>
    <span>egh</span>
  </em>
  <span> - with me like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been to a few parties in my day,” you chuckled, patting his back as he heaved out more nothing into the toilet. “Believe it or not, I’m usually the one helping out the crazy drunk people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers snickered at that, coughing a few times before he settled on a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The musician eventually calmed down, finding himself able to breathe without vomiting his entire existence. He ended up curling up into a ball on the bathroom floor. You tried to get him back </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span> said floor in hopes of helping him clean up, when he shooed you away and said that he’d do it himself. Hesitantly, you agreed. So, you walked out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. Thankfully, some of those red cups were stacked up surprisingly neat on the counter beside the sink. You filled up the cup with some water, and brought it to the bathroom. Piers was slowly picking himself back up, huffing and grunting with an occasional curse. But he didn’t look nearly as dead inside as he was at the bar, so hey, improvement. He gratefully downed the water, and moved to brush his teeth. You didn’t want to tell him that brushing your teeth after vomiting is not a good idea, but hey, if it helps him feel better...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to grab some clothes for you?” you hesitantly asked once he finished up, seeming a bit more sober now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it’s fine, I got it. But, uh…” he let his eyes glide down your form a little too slowly to be considered casual. “...you need to get out of those, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried not to think about the welt of anxiety that his words instigated. Before you could protest, he slid past you, holding onto the walls to keep himself upright before stumbling into his bedroom. You tiptoed out the bathroom to peek into his room, only to have a stack of clothes placed into your hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put these on,” he spoke with a strange confidence all of the sudden. There’s that whiplash, again, throwing you off your rhythm. “You can hang your clothes in the bathroom to dry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-well, I, uh… I probably should be going soon, and I don’t want get your clothes dirty, so -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stay the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> more confidence in those words than you really would’ve expected from him, all things considered. Was this him getting payback on you for last time?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t intrude, I mean -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s looking down at you with a deep look in his eyes, those intense blue eyes of his. You can hardly keep your attention on them without feeling all flustered and warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh....” you tried to think of a good excuse, but your brain was too busy malfunctioning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re keepin’ an eye on me, ‘member?” he leaned in just a bit. “Makin’ sure I don’t die or nothin’. It’s no big deal. I promise I’ll behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What does THAT mean?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um… okay… thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and turns back into his room. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> ignore the fact that he immediately starts peeling off his clothes without bothering to shut the door. So you take it upon yourself to pull away, locking yourself in the bathroom as you attempt to calm yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, relax - he’s not thinking straight and it’s probably just the alcohol talking. And I think he’s too drunk to really, uh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>accomplish</span>
  <em>
    <span> anything, so… It should be fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You look back down at the warm clothes in your hands. Definitely his clothes, judging by the faint smell of his cologne. Wait, how did you know what his cologne smells like? Probably from when you were drunk and got all up in his business. You blushed and shook your head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, okay, okay! Focus, dammit!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You took off your wet gym clothes and hung them above the shower rung to dry. You figured that you’d just have to settle for wet undergarments, for now - those </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely were </span>
  </em>
  <span>not coming off. Turning your attention to the pile of clothes on the counter, you took a deep breath and began to get dressed. With how the shirt went down to your thighs and how you had to roll up the ends of the black sweatpants, you could affirm that these were most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> clothes. But hey, they were comfy, and way warmer than your other clothes were. You took one more deep breath and gathered your bearings before walking out into the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much to your surprise, Piers was waiting for you on the couch, a curious glint in his eyes. He seemed to follow your every move as you walked over to the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should get in your bed,” you gave a timid smile, trying to ignore his constant attempts to hold your gaze. “I’m okay sleeping on the couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, maybe this is gonna be a bit harder than I thought</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, really! I’d rather you be comfortable, so please go sleep in your bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at you for a few breaths. For the first time in a while, you really didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know what was going on in his head with the way he was so determined to openly stare. Slowly, he nodded and you gave a tired smile in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, cool. Good. Let’s get you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, you slugged one arm across your shoulder and pulled him up by the waist. This time, however, he seemed more than willing to lean into your body, his head lulling against your own as you dragged him to his bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somehow, this was easier when he was half-awake on the way here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you internally groaned. But still, you both walked into the room, and immediately collapsed onto the bed. Your muscles cried out in exhaustion as you heard Piers huff from your side. He definitely wasn’t the easiest person to drag around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mission accomplished. You smiled in affirmation and tried to push yourself up to give the man some space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only problem was Piers wasn’t letting go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-uh, Piers?” you felt a blush coming on as he tugged you back down, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist and pulling you into his chest. “Wh-what, uh, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so beautiful,” he said as plain as day, one hand reaching up to stroke your hair from the side. You tried to gently push him back, but only found yourself sinking deeper into his hold. He didn’t look all that strong, but apparently he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I should’a let you have me when I had the chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, yup, you’re definitely not qualified for this. You should be telling him to stop, but all you can do is feel your heartbeat drum wildly against your ribcage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Piers</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you exhale, finally finding your words. “Y-you’re not thinking clearly. You don’t know what you’re - </span>
  <em>
    <span>mmph!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can hardly remember what it was you were trying to say, because he cuts you off with a firm kiss and all you can think about is how desperately he’s holding your face onto his. Your fingers grasp at the front of his shirt, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away. There’s so much heat in his lips, so much hungry desire, and yet you can feel him holding back from bruising you with his passion. When he finally pulls away, he takes your breath away with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says with far too much earnestness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re drunk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But I still love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wonder if he’s being painfully honest right now because of the alcohol, or if he’s just feeling a little extra something in his altered state of mind. But there’s no denying the longing in his eyes as he looks over at you, scanning your entire face for any sense of reciprocation. Apparently, he finds something, because he’s pulling you back in and using a hand to coax your mouth open. You almost give in when a sudden burst of resistance gives you the strength to pull back. You slip out of his arms and straighten up on the bed, heaving breath after breath as you stare down at him in wide-eyed disbelief. He seems equally as shocked, his skin flush and his normally pale lips just a little bit swollen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I…” he closes his eyes for a second before looking back at you. “... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to force that - it’s just… I really think I’m actually in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words hang in the air for a few minutes, and you can see the upcoming tide of panic in his eyes. Before it crashes into him, you place a tender hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey… It’s okay. I understand. Just… I’d rather you say those sort of things when you’re sober.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can,” he practically whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… That’s okay, too. Take your time. I probably need some time to, uh… digest all this, myself. Things are a bit intense right now for everyone, and I don’t know if starting a relationship is the best thing for either of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the sorrowful expression that works its way onto his face, you almost regret saying all that. But you’d rather be honest with him now than hurt him later in the future. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Here you go again,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you hear that voice in the back of your head</span>
  <em>
    <span>, being indecisive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You shake it off and give him a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t think you should just give up. If you really think that you feel this way, then… Please work up the courage to ask me with a clear head, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks away for a moment, letting the words ruminate in his mind before giving a dizzy nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Okay. But… Will you stay here, with me? Just for the night - nothin’ weird, I promise. I just… I want to be with you for a little while longer. In case I don’t get the chance again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know what he means. So you agree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You help him into the bed properly, slipping delicately beside him as he already begins wrapping his limbs around your person. Instead of pulling you into him, this time, he nestled his face into the crevice of your neck, giving a slow exhale of contentment once you held onto him in kind. It felt weird to be held so dearly. Not even your previous partners held you quite like this, with so much compassion and hope. Not overbearing, but not loose. Firm. Secure. Comfortable. Such an odd thing to experience from the once cold gym leader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The panic of the day washed away with every shared breath you took. No commitments were made, but no-one ran away. Just two people, holding each other in a liminal space they hardly had experience with. It was an odd sort of comfort, for you. You wondered if Piers felt the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rain sang you both to sleep, laughing to itself as the cool air forced the two of you closer together as the night droned on.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaand that's CONFESSION #1~! Don't forget to leave your reactions and theories in the comments~ I live for reading all your guys comments, honestly lol. </p><p>With this wonderful bombshell being today's chapter, get ready for Friday's chapter - some big stuff is headed our way... So, see you guys on Friday~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Hope You Like Reading Long-Winded Conspiracy Theories Because That’s All This is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, y’all! Just a note here - I kinda, uh, went really overboard with this chapter! (That’s code for: I think this chapter may be kinda boring to read lol). But I can’t really toss the chapter or combine it with another chapter bc (1), it’s already waaay too long (like 10 pages by itself), and (2), it’s got major plot material in it that really shouldn’t be jumbled into other stuff. I realize that some people may not be interested in reading the fanfiction equivalent of the process of someone doing research for that many words. So, if that’s you, then SKIP TO THE END NOTE AND THERE YOU’LL FIND THE BASIC SUMMARY OF THIS SPECIFIC CHAPTER. I’ll outline the major plot revelations there, but at the cost of dialogue and immersion that you get from reading the fic normally.</p><p>If you read this chapter normally, then cool! It might be a bit of a slog (it literally took me FOREVER to write this chapter bc there's a lot going on lol), but if that’s your jam (or if you’re just that determined), than kudos to you! But don’t feel entitled to read all the bullshit - I get it, yo. </p><p>Okay, that’s all from me, for now. Hope this chapter isn’t totally terrible to read. I can’t wait to read your guys’ reactions and comments~ Thank you for reading!~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You hate that this has to happen, but it kind of has to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only a few minutes ago, you had slowly started to wake up. It took you a second to remember where you were, why you felt warmth against your neck and chest and legs and everything, really. Your hands absentmindedly ran down the length of Piers’ hair, pleasantly surprised to find that it was quite wavy at the moment. He seemed so relaxed all nestled up close; you longed to see what his face looked like in that exact moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This sweet bliss, however, didn’t last, as you quickly remembered part of the conversation you had with him the night before. Something had happened during his segment of the gym challenge; in his drunken stupor, he mentioned that he was supposed to “stop them” or something along those lines. Who was “them”, specifically? Another set of gym challengers? And furthermore, what did stopping “them” have to do with Marnie, or even Chairman Rose? You put two and two together and figured that Chairman Rose wanted to rig the competition for whatever reason, and was using Marnie as a hostage. Yeah, you wouldn’t put it past the guy, considering he was doing the same thing to Leon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only Leon could stop him if he really wanted to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you let the bitter thought fuel you for the briefest of moments. Then, in your domino-esk thought process, you remembered back to Victor’s call from earlier. He was asking about Dynamax - </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dynamax, to be specific. Nobody else in the competition seemed to notice a difference, not even the announcers. And yet this unassuming child did. It gave you the impression that he might be one of the “them” that Piers was referring to. Which meant that Victor is in danger, and might have been asking for your help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All that flooded your chest with anxiety, and gave you the strength you needed to gently pry yourself from Piers’ embrace. He didn’t react at all, still quite soundly asleep. But before you left the room, you couldn’t help but look at his sleeping form. A peaceful expression on his face, lips slightly apart, with that beautiful black-and-white hair all sprawled all behind him. He looked like some romantic painting, all soft and serene like this. So you indulge yourself with a soft kiss to his temple before quietly slipping out the door. You changed as fast as you could into your relatively dry uniform and escaped the premises. It hurt, knowing that he’d wake up thinking you’d abandoned him, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You had to make sure to help these kids in any way you could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you finally exited the city, you pulled out your phone and called up Victor. He answered within a few rings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” his gentle voice rang out, seeing a bit out of breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s right, he and the other finalists should be making their way through Route 10 right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Victor - this is [Y/n], the fire-type gym leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I’m glad you called! Is there something you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounded excited, a hint of hopefulness clinging to the ends of his words. To be honest, it surprised you a bit. He sounded like just a normal boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh…” you lowered your voice a tad. “I want to help you. Something’s happening in Galar right now, and I know you’re a target. You can trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was silent for a moment before giving out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I will. Please, I hope I can trust you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise. Tell you what: find someplace safe and hide there for a while. I’ll make my way to Route 10 and we can talk, alright? I won’t bring my pokemon, if that makes you feel safer. But I think you can help answer some questions for me, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. There’s a snowy overhang not too far from the back of the mountain - I’ll wait there. I’ll send my Gallade to come find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good. I’ll be on my way then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hang up and make your way towards Motostoke, hoping that there would be a flying taxi available when you reach the city. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can always just use the flute,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the thought occurred to you, but it was promptly banished. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, and you can also throw yourself off a fucking cliff. Shut the fuck up, me.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sonia flipped through the glossary one more time, much to the annoyance of Yamper. The dog let out a loud howl before being immediately hushed by the girl. The little pokemon huffed, marching away from his place at her heel and opting to instead stare at the corner a few feet from her desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit complaining,” she didn’t bother to lift her eyes, “I’ve gotta make sure that I didn’t miss anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She probably skimmed through this book three times over the course of an entire twenty-four hours (which was fueled with far too much plain black coffee, much to her displeasure), but each time she scanned the book she just got more and more confused. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that there were really two legendary heroes that protected the region all those years ago, but history books like this one seem determined to make it just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But then, upon second read, she noticed that this hero was said to have only wielded a sword. The book later explained how it was with the help of a magical sword </span>
  <em>
    <span>and shield</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the hero(es?) conquered the darkness that plagued medieval Galar. What the hell happened to the shield? And why were these books so damn determined to just gloss over its existence when they weren’t ignoring it entirely?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman groaned, pulling off her glasses for a moment to rub her eyes. She really hated wearing glasses, but she’d rather be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> the words rather than constantly second-guessing her dodgy eyesight. The woes of being born far-sighted. Nevertheless, she persisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing that this book wouldn’t be useful, she grabbed another from the stack she had gathered from the Hammerlocke Municipal Library. Leon had suggested that she go visit the Wyndon branch instead, but she ended up shaking her head at that. No, if she wanted to figure this thing out, she needed the bigger branch in Hammerlocke. So, she popped the book down in front of her, took a long drink from her thermos, and jumped to the glossary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the books on the subject matter of medieval Galar seemed to be written by the same three dudes, all with the same annoying and pretentious writing voice that made Sonia want to stab her eyes out. Like, seriously, these guys made epic battles with forces beyond human understanding sound like the most boring thing in the world. Not to mention they were all written in the early sixties, so occasionally she would find herself reading something a bit, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not politically correct</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But, a few pages in, she starts to realize that this book seemed to be an outlier. She checked the cover. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beyond the Gates of Wyndon Castle: A Deeper Look into the History of Galar’s Monarchy.</span>
  </em>
  <span> To be honest, she really didn’t remember grabbing this book. She probably just saw the words “History” and “Galar” and just assumed it’d mention the Darkest Day at some point (which really wasn’t too bold of an assumption). Her fingers opened the book once more, skimming down the table of contents. One in particular caught her eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A Sword to Defend, a Shield to Protect.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s probably a good sign. She flipped to the right page and dug in. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Many sources have seemed to make it an unspoken tradition to highlight the majesty of the battle, but at the expense of detail. As a result, not much is actually known about the events of the Darkest Day. Should it ever occur again, we might be powerless to stop it. In order to truly understand the present and predict the future of Galar, we as historians must take the initiative to find the whole truth, to align every piece of the puzzle.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, get on with it,” the woman groaned. These guys were always so damn pretentious. She made a mental note to sound a little less entitled when she finally started her official report.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The legend of the Darkest Day is a hopeful one, in which a powerful knight by the name of Sir Arthur emerges from the earth with a magical sword, making his long and arduous journey to Wyndon Castle in order to defeat the evil that afflicted the region as a whole. We as a people have become complacent in accepting the legitimacy of that legend, it would seem. It would most likely be symbolic that the hero ‘emerged from the earth’, of course, but in what way? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I would reason that this knight was perhaps not a mystical entity, but instead a simple knight of a lord somewhere in the southern ends of the region. Considering no other reliably true tale exists of Arthur before his efforts in sealing the darkness, it would not be so outlandish to assume that he served in a peaceful town with little reason for his efforts. A few villages came to mind, but the only one that remained at the time of my questioning was modern-day Postwick. Could this have been the earthen land that people claimed Sir Arthur sprouted forth from?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Upon the revelation that Postwick would be our only hope for looking into the unknown past of Sir Arthur, a small team of interns and I made our way to the town. At the time of our visit, it was incredibly rural, with only a small community of one hundred people living humble lives within its boundaries. The town itself seems to also hold a more ‘untouched’ feel than the rest of the region: where other cities have grown with technological advancements, this town remains homely and rustic. It is a wonder as to why.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My team and I began to interview many of the inhabitants of the town, hoping perhaps to find old folklore that lined up with my hypothesis. And much to our joy, it did: one of the town’s children mentioned a forest deep in the ends of the town, a place that was entirely forbidden to everyone. It is said that a powerful entity resides in the heart of that forest, and that those who wander are judged by that entity. You may leave in confusion and perhaps even without memory of the night’s events, or you may never be seen again. So I wondered: could this perhaps have something to do with the origination of Sir Arthur? I wanted to enter the forest to see for myself, but alas, the citizens would not allow me entry. It appeared that I would have to find alternative ways to solve this mystery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Days passed us by, and little to no progress in our research had been made. I was about ready to give up this quest entirely when one of my younger college interns - a young Miss Mindy Barker - approached me with a finding of her own. She had gone into town that day to get some water, seeing as the family that housed us at the time did not have easy access and had to use a well a ways away from the property. She went to the well, only to see off in the distance what appeared to be an old fortified manor house just at the ends of the town. It was nearly encompassed in trees and vines, which would explain how none of us noticed it before. The rest of our team made our way towards the manor shortly after, followed by the elder man who housed my team.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He mentioned to us that this was known as the Old Braviary Manor, and had been in its state of disrepair and abandonment for as long as anyone could remember. He allowed us to go and investigate, so long as we were careful. The manor was awfully destroyed, as if something had barrelled straight through the side of it and wrecked havoc all around, but little bits and pieces of a story remained in the rubble. We found that this would most likely have been the home of an esteemed nobleman, whose name we are assuming to be ‘Thomas’ based on what few documents we recovered from the study. But what caught my attention, however, was what we found within the spare bedrooms. This would undoubtedly be where he would have housed his servants or soldiers. So we investigated the room and found a shocking discovery: not only was there a knight named Arthur living there, but another knight named Rowain - a pair of brothers.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia audibly gasped. After all this searching, after all her hard work and sleepless nights, </span>
  <em>
    <span>here it was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A confirmation in the theory of there having been two heroes for the Darkest Day. She paused to throw her fists in the air before reading on. All her exhaustion vanished in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hardly anything seems to be known of Rowain, interestingly enough. Had I not stumbled upon a letter in which Arthur mentions him living in the manor house, we might have never learned of his existence. Up until this very moment, the tapestries that remain in the Hammerlocke Vault had been regarded as symbolic representations of the sword and shield, themselves, rather than actual depictions of the heroes. But now, I found a new set of questions haunting my brain: Who was Rowain, and what became of him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The answer, I fear, might be too far lost to history. No legends have been found relating to that of Rowain, and no-one in the town seemed to know anything about what resided within the Old Braviary Manor at all. It would seem that Rowain might have been the shadow of his brother, lost to time in the rising glory of Sir Arthur. One can only wonder what became of him. If Arthur bore the sword, did Rowain bear the shield? Perhaps, when given the chance to lead the kingdom, did Rowain grow jealous and steal away the ancient weaponry as means to take his brother’s glory? What has become of the ancient sword and shield? And what made them so special against the darkness?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps one day soon, the world will learn the truth.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia stared at the end of the paragraph, eyes wide in disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That can’t be it…” she groaned, looking over the past couple pages before ultimately returning to the table of contents. Unfortunately, nothing else seemed to discuss what it is she wanted to know. She let out an audible pout, leaning back into the rather uncomfortable chair in the far ends of the library. “Well… at least I got a name…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind. It wasn’t the greatest, but it did give her something to work with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Rotom,” she called out. Immediately, her Rotomphone flew out of her pocket and floated in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bzzt, you called?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Search for the name “Rowain” - spelled R-O-W-A-I-N - from as many Galarian historical websites as you can find involving either the Darkest Day or medieval Galar. I wanna see something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Rotomphone obliged, giving a silly twirl in the air as it loaded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’zz currently forty-five listings including the name ‘Rowain’. Izz there something specific you’re searching for, bzzt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only forty-five, huh?” she mused, “I want to see any historical references to that name. I need to find a family tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not the best plan, not even a good plan, but hey, it was a plan. The Rotomphone got to work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You finally reached the beginning of Route 10, and already was regretting not changing into some warmer clothes. It was freezing, snow falling all around you, and it would only be getting colder as the day went on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How the hell is it snowing in the middle of summer?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> But then again, Galar was considerably more north than Hoenn was, so maybe this was just a natural thing. Every region had some crazy different biomes, after all, so was it really that big of a surprise?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walked along a trail (or what probably was a trail - it had significantly less snow and made it easier to walk) and wrapped your arms around your waist. True to your words, you kept your pokemon at home, only having brought your bag just in case you needed it. You could only hope that a wild pokemon wouldn’t find you before you found Victor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes of walking and you saw a familiar form fade into sight against the white landscape. It was a Gallade, who approached you with a gentlemanly bow. You gave a timid bow of your own, stumbling a bit due to your shivers. He, nevertheless, appreciated the gesture and began to guide you towards the mountains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were full-on shivering by the time you reached the overhang that Victor mentioned, but was happy to see that the youth had started up a fire to no doubt keep him and his pokemon warm. He smiled and waved at you. To his right stood a Coalossal, who seemed to be asleep, and to his left stood his Inteleon. That Inteleon had mad intimidation skills - he glared down at you as if you were the scum of the earth, flicking his tail in irritation when you approached the boy for a handshake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind him,” Victor chuckled at your nervous glances. “He’s a bit protective. We’ve had a few close calls, recently, so I guess he’s just being cautious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good trait in a partner pokemon,” you smile. “He’s ready to protect you at a moment’s notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor nodded, a gentle smile resting on his rosy face. The two of you sat down on the ground that Coalossal had thawed with his Flame Body ability, eager to warm up a bit. You sat with your legs crossed, hands in your lap. Victor sat similarly, his hands behind him and keeping him upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard from one of the gym leaders that you’re under fire from the chairman - is that right?” He nods. “I’m sorry to hear that. I totally get it - I haven’t exactly been his favorite employee, either. He seems to be causing a lot of people a lot of grief.” You noticed the distant look in the boy’s eyes. He looked so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I’m sure I don’t know all the details, but maybe what I know can help you put some things together. Then, you can tell me what you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You took a deep breath, and explained what you knew. You told him how you simply couldn’t Dynamax (without going in-depth, of course), how the league seemed to get mad at that resistance, how Leon gave you a scientifically-altered Dynamax band produced by Macro Cosmos, and how it’s effects are less than ideal for both you and your pokemon. Victor listened intently - if a little too quietly - the whole time you spoke. Once the summary was finished, he let out a soft hum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivamax, huh?” he said more to himself than to you. Suddenly, he snapped back to you. “Wait, so you said that you can’t physically use battle enhancers, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen the last time you successfully used a battle enhancer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sink a little, looking away from the boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… it’s a long story…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. I need to know if my sister’s theory was correct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced back towards him, an eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your sister?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I… I have a sister who did the gym challenge five years ago. Gloria. She was never really interested in making much progress in the competition; she was always more involved with our mom’s flower shop and watching her true crime shows. But I think she found something during her travels that completely changed her mind. All of the sudden, she became a lot more active in the challenge, and seemed to be interested in battle enhancers during her interviews. In her last interview, she mentioned something about the victim of the Wyndon Riots, and how that big of an accident should have never happened. I think she found a flaw in Dynamax and battle enhancers altogether.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a lot of unpack. You stared in wide-eyed disbelief as you processed all his words. You had heard of the Wyndon Riots before, somewhere during your preliminary research of the region and even a tidbit about it from Leon back way-when, but you didn’t know much about it. All you really knew was that riots swept the region after a gym challenger died during an official match, and the region was nearly torn to shreds (most notably Wyndon). You also knew that it was apparently “nothing to worry about” according to Leon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A flaw? Like… something wrong with them as a whole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that. I really don’t know what exactly. But I think it’s something that can cause battle enhancers to either backfire or go through a severe failure. I just need to figure out what it could be.” He thought for a moment, one finger tapping his chin. It was adorable, the way he looked right then. He suddenly snapped his fingers. “A-hah. Your Vivamax band. You mentioned how it doesn’t require a bond to work, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, that’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then maybe it’s something to do with the bond between pokemon and trainer. They say that the more powerful a connection, the more powerful the effects. So, maybe, if a connection is broken…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You saw his mouth continue to move, but no sound was reaching you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt your heart drop in your stomach like a bag of bricks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world around you seemingly stopped moving altogether, leaving you in a terrible purgatory of a faint, ringing</span>
  <em>
    <span> dread</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If a connection is broken.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words repeated over and over again in your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did you not realize this before?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was because you didn’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t want to accept that your inability to use battle enhancers was your own fault. That all of this was all </span>
  <em>
    <span>your own fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But you knew that from the start, didn’t you? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Didn’t you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Victor’s shaking your shoulder, the sound of his gentle voice snapping you back to reality. You panted heavily, heart racing from within you. Hot tears burned your cheeks. You hurriedly wiped them away as Victor pulled back a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright? What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, umm…” your words had no voice, only breath. “Yeah, I think I know what happened…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked him in the eye, watching him stare back at you in mild worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The connection between me and my partner pokemon back home was forcibly severed in a battle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was killed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t make any sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why didn’t anybody know about this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia rubbed her tired eyes, pausing only for a brief second before looking back at the phone screen before her face. The article she was currently reading was not much different from the others: old (probably made in the early 2000’s), written by teens or college students with a questionable grasp on the legend entirely (a few major details were wrong in each of them, Sonia noted), and hardly mentioned Rowain at all. Most of them were term papers, only briefly mentioning the lack of knowledge on the existence of the other brother before going onto some half-assed tangent on the symbolic nature of the sword and shield. None of this was helping. This was a gigantic waste of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She exited out of the article, pulling up the thirtieth one with another long drink from her thermos. This article didn’t look much different, though she did notice that it was a more recent article made by a third-year grad student from the Unova region. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This should be good</span>
  </em>
  <span>… she joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Many Galarian youths are rocked to sleep at night with a rather popular legend. Countless films, books, and TV show adaptations depict the brilliant story of Sir Arthur, the legendary youth who rescued the Galar region from its shadowy demise with his enchanted sword and shield. For years, this legend was either regarded as entirely true or entirely false, most commonly being cited as the primary reason behind the legitimacy of the monarchal family’s continued governance. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But what if it was neither? What if this legend of old was nothing more than a partial truth, and a partial lie?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia, for the first time in three hours since reading the last book, was intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Countless legends tell the story of the first true king of Galar, Sir King Arthur. But hardly anyone has ever heard the smallest of mentions of his equally-legendary younger brother, Sir Rowain. The first known mention of Sir Rowain was only brought to light in the late sixties by a team of interns led by their favorite college professor, Michael Lockard. Lockard’s discovery came about when his questioning led him to the sleepy town of Postwick, Galar, and he claimed to have found evidence pointing to the existence of King Arthur’s brother and fellow knight. Unfortunately, many historians are divisive on the legitimacy of Lockard’s discovery, since he never produced any physical evidence for his findings.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, there goes my lead,” Sonia sighed. A goddamn waste of time. She had half the mind to close out of the article, but her eyes suddenly flicked down to the bottom of the screen and caught sight of a very specific phrase: “- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sir Rowain’s shield -</span>
  </em>
  <span>” More than just a bit curious, she returned to the spot she had left off and continued reading. Maybe there was more.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But this essay aims to prove that perhaps there was a reason for Lockard’s strange refusal to offer any evidence to his theory. If Sir Rowain did, in fact, exist, then he would therefore deserve the equal opportunity to rule over the Galar region. With this idea in mind, one must realize that the question is not ‘Did Sir Rowain exist?’ but instead, ‘What became of Sir Rowain?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The most agreed-upon version of the legend goes as follows: the Galar region existed in a fragile peace amongst several small kingdoms. Then one fateful day, the entire region is shrouded in darkness. Giant pokemon suddenly wreaked havoc in every kingdom. It was as if the evil had corrupted the hearts of once gentle pokemon, and turned them into chaotic beasts bent on destroying everything they saw. Every king sent their best knights to combat the darkness, only to vanish into the darkness, never to be seen again. They all discovered that the greatest kingdom of them all - modern-day Wyndon - was the source of the darkness, where a powerful red and black storm left the entire kingdom in pitch black nothingness. Just when all hope was lost, a hero emerges from the earth with ‘a sword to defend’ and - though this detail is often forgotten - ‘a shield to protect’. He makes the long, arduous journey from a dark forest to the gates of olden-times Wyndon and fights the evil. The darkness is later defeated, and all returns to normal. Grateful for his heroism, the people of Galar declare him as their godly leader, and he is crowned as king. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“For centuries, this story has been regarded with either entire disbelief or complete acceptance. But as any good historian knows, no story is just black or white. Upon analyzing the deeper-most details of the legend, along with what one can gather from artifacts and documents on the event, it is most definitely true that the Darkest Day was a true occurrence. For an indeterminate amount of time, the entire region was completely and mysteriously cloaked in darkness with colossal pokemon wandering about. It is regarded as the first instance of wild Dynamaxing, a now popular battle enhancing strategy used by trainers of the Galar region. Furthermore, it is also true that no-one else in the region could do much to stop the darkness - whatever that truly may have been - as there are a few famous documents from those who experienced the event first-hand. One of the more famous pieces was a recovered letter from a noblewoman in what is now modern-day Hulbury; she tells how her secret lover, a knight enlisted by her wealthy father, had gone off to combat, only to have been ‘consumed by darkness’ and never returned. So it is safe to assume that only the legendary hero met some mystical specific requirements to defeat the darkness. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><em><span>“However, there are many instances where the legend and the facts no longer connect in such an orderly fashion. The biggest point of contention is found in Lockard’s theory of Sir Rowain. While the theory and supporters of the royal family claim there to have only been a single hero of legend, there are a few inconsistencies within the story that is told. While the legend tells of Sir Arthur wielding a mystical sword and shield to banish the darkness, there is no discernable form of historical artwork available that depicts the knight holding both weapons at the same time - only ever the sword. In fact, the only time artwork of the famed shield is ever shown is when there are two heroes present, the other man holding the shield instead of Sir Arthur. While many claim that this is to symbolize the spirit of the weaponry rather than the bearers of them, the question still remains as to why Sir Arthur, if he truly wielded both, was never depicted holding both. </span></em><em><span><br/></span></em> <em><span>Why is Sir Rowain, in the few cases of his presence, always shown with the shield? It is also worthy to note that in every single depiction of these two heroes is always precise - in the famous tapestries that reside in the Hammerlocke Vault, Sir Arthur always noted as the brunet figure while Sir Rowain would be likely the blond figure - never the other way around. This raises the idea that perhaps the public had indeed known these two knights to wield those specific items, adding further support to the theory of Sir Rowain’s legitimate existence in history.</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But if Sir Rowain did exist, what became of him? A popular tapestry - again, commented as being symbolic of divinity as a concept and Sir Arthur - depicts Sir Arthur and who we’ve decided to be Sir Rowain both being crowned as rulers of Galar. So, if both of them became the rulers of the region, why is there only ever reference to just one? Only one legitimate answer can be found for this question: greed.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia felt herself hunching forward a bit, as if watching a soap opera. Who the hell was this guy who wrote this? And again, how come more people didn’t know about this? It could completely rewrite much of Galar’s known history and even shake the monarchy! She kept reading.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A possible theory as to the disappearance and consequential erasure of Sir Rowain’s existence might be found in another (though less popular) legend of Arthur, long after he had been crowned as king. A story tells of how the king once found himself bored in the castle, and eventually ran off to find an adventure. In the meantime, he places his wife in his stead to make sure that the kingdom continued to survive. He, however, was saddened to find that he could not find a quest that he was interested in - one version even saying how he outright refused a quest due to it seeming unworthy of his attention - and made his way back to the castle. However, on the way back, he began to hear word that his kingdom was thriving beyond belief. In a fit of rage, he stormed the palace and beheaded his wife, who, in her death, was revealed to be a witch who cast a beguiling spell on him for a chance to seize the throne. And while this story may very well just be an old legend, it is difficult to ignore that characteristic of violent jealousy within King Arthur if he went as far as to murder his wife, who he had openly given power to, only because it seemed as though she was doing a better job than he. If King Arthur was able to murder his love, what might he have done to his brother?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps not all hope is lost for the story of Sir Rowain. There is one more theory to share; another legend of King Arthur, though most of it is inconsequential to this theory, adds a curious hint as to what might have become of his equally-powerful brother. The overall legend tells the story of an older and wiser King Arthur personally leading a voyage across the sea to find a nameless thief who he believed had stolen a rather unique dragon whistle. He finds the thief, but it is noted in every version of the story that the person responsible was not who he expected, being a ‘young lad with poppy eyes’ rather than ‘a villian with flaxen hair’. While it could be a stretch, there is a chance that this nameless thief - this ‘villian with flaxen hair’ - could be our Sir Rowain. And if this legend can be trusted, it would lead one to the assumption that Sir Rowain was not killed, but sent away. If anyone would have known of a jealous greed that resided within Sir Arthur’s heart, it would definitely be his brother. Perhaps Sir Rowain saw his impending assassination, and fled the region in hopes of survival.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With one more paragraph left, Sonia figured that this article had proved its usefulness. And useful it was. Immediately, she opened up a new tab and did a quick search. Moments later, she’s skimming through yet another article, this one considerably shorter than the last. By the end, she jumps to her feet, ignoring the cracks in her joints at her sudden movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>According to the legend of Sir Arthur’s quest for the dragon whistle, he sailed across the sea to indeed find some nameless thief only described to have blond hair (this was the king’s assumption, as the true thief did not have blond hair). But what she wanted, however, was a location. The article analyzing the legend noted that the ship was said to have sailed a straight line for twelve days and thirteen nights, so the best possible location would have been Unova, the region just west of Galar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was turning out to be a much bigger chase than she was hoping for, because the woman found herself rummaging through historical articles of Unova’s pre-colonial period (which really isn’t much, considering how many medieval immigrants died out in the first trips to Unova; the region didn’t really get it’s political bearings until Galar started setting lasting colonies up nearly five centuries later). And for once, Sonia found a relatively immediate answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One scholarly article discussed the early folklore of the indigineous Unovian people, who were far more spiritual and connected to the lives of pokemon than the kingdoms to the east of them. She scrolled through a dozen symbolic stories before eventually stumbling upon a keyword: “golden hair”. She stopped and read the paragraph.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Long ago, a young woman was wandering the beaches of her home, looking for shells to make a necklace out of. She walked along the shore, only to eventually stumble upon a man with golden hair, unconscious on the ground. Thinking him to be a lost spirit, she took him to her tribe, where they revived him. The man seemed thankful, and was later accepted into the tribe. The divinities of the forest, however, were less accepting. One day, the tribe was attacked by their patron divinity - a powerful pokemon who valued justice and honor - and demanded that the strange man leave. The young woman protected the man with her life and pleaded with the pokemon. In the end, the woman’s words reached the heart of the divinity, and granted them peace once more. The man devoted himself to the kind-hearted people that protected him, and he later married the woman. It is said that their grandson was the curious Rinnon Just, who eventually brought the art of dragon taming to the kingdom of Galar many years later.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cue another Google search. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, she kind of didn’t settle on a specific article for this, but the ones she looked at put even more pieces together of this dumpster-fire of a tale. Rinnon Just, as mentioned before, was a dragon tamer who wanted to share his practice with the world. So he sailed to Galar and ended up taking on only a handful of apprentices before he settled down with a painter from modern-day Hammerlocke and eventually died of old age. But not before they had a daughter named Jenna, who followed in her father’s footsteps. And so did the eldest of Jenna Winkley’s three sons, Patrick. Patrick’s son, however, did not continue the tradition, instead letting the family tradition end with him when he enlisted in the military. This is where the search became more difficult, as information on this guy - who’s name was Richard, by the way - was harder to find with him bouncing all over the region for his work. But there was some public information on his daughter, Natalie Patel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She paused at that name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Patel</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At this point, Sonia started to feel her hands getting clammy in anticipation, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Not when she was so close to finding out the truth. It was all coming together before her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natalie had a son named Jonah, Jonah had a son named Darcy, Darcy had a son named Kenneth, and so on and so forth. The potency of each name diminished with every search, but always, there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> match to the name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> hope that the family line continues to the present. And eventually, she found just that. She searched one last name, and was greeted with only one useful result. A local news article from the Postwick Weekly, dated nearly fourteen years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An all-too familiar flower shop was shown in the picture, beautiful roses and sunflowers and lilies surrounded the building as a small family posed in the center. A woman, her husband, and their five-year-old daughter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Local flower shop donates ten pounds of roses for Postwick High’s prom. Owner Laura Patel claims ‘Flowers are brief and need to be loved. So are the memories of youth.’”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Laura Patel. Mother of Gloria Patel. Mother of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Victor Patel</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonia immediately saved every single article and hurriedly started to pack up her things. Yamper, who had fallen asleep during all of this nonsense, was woken by the commotion, giving a tired whine as his trainer started shoving all her collected books onto a cart except for the Lockard one. She would need it for citations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Yamper,” she beamed, downing the last remains of her terribly bitter coffee. “We’ve got a </span>
  <em>
    <span>book</span>
  </em>
  <span> to write.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When you finally recollected yourself, you turned to look back at Victor, who was more than happy to give you silent back pats the whole while you cried your eyes out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “it’s just… a really rough memory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. I think there’s something about the bond between pokemon and trainer that gives the use of battle enhancers all their power - maybe it’s that connection and the properties of the item that makes things happen. So if that bond is broken through something as traumatic as death, then…!” He suddenly gasped. “A-hah - of course! The Wyndon Riots began because a trainer was killed when trying to control her Dynamaxed pokemon. So what if she couldn’t Dynamax properly because she went through something similar to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, when I always try to use battle enhancers, it just completely fails. I don’t really lose control like I do when…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. Yes. Of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of you slowly trailed your eyes down to your wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Vivamax band,” you exhaled, lifting it closer to you with horror in your eyes. “Oh my gosh - Chairman Rose started the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking riots</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That just might be true. No doubt to rake in extra funds for his company and seize the league during all the upset. It’s just… It’s completely unreal. I can’t believe it - Gloria </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked over at the boy, seeing that somber expression on his face with a particular feeling of woe. A boy his age shouldn’t be going through all of this. You remembered when you too had to right the wrongs of the adults above you. You could only pray that he would be far more successful than you were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… What now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sighs, running a hand down his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose we’ll need some concrete evidence. We’ll need to find proof of trauma in that challenger or their pokemon… Well, the only person I can think to ask would be Gym Leader Opal - I think she was there when it happened. Maybe she remembers something important - I think if that challenger was wearing a band similar to yours, then we can prove that the chairman is behind everything. I can ask her during the Champion Cup, but… I don’t see it being an easy task, especially with the champion around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You really tried to think of something else. There had to be another option, here, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no, you really couldn’t think of another plan. So you opt for the worst thing ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can distract him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor looks up at you with a surprised expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so. He’ll probably want to try and keep an eye on you, but I noticed that whenever I needed to recover from my VMax battles, he always came in to check on me right after. If he does that during the Champion Cup, then maybe I can keep him distracted long enough for you to talk to Opal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d really do that? He can be… quite a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, kid, you don’t even know the half of it. Though, uh, maybe you do. He’s probably just as difficult even without him being all… suspicious with his wording.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll manage - it’s not like we have any better options. He doesn’t back down from a fight, so I’ll just mess with him until time runs out. Basic stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay… Please be safe, though. I don’t want Leon to hurt anyone else I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Anyone else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the sudden tears that brimmed in his eyes, you would have been entirely distracted by his gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he’s the one who got rid of Gloria. He… he might’ve killed her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile faltered. Victor covered his face with trembling hands, trying to pull himself together. To the side, Inteleon gave his trainer a tender pat on the head as it croaked out a sound of endearment. As you watched this poor boy sob right in front of your eyes, you affirmed one solid fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never before have you hated someone as much as you hated Leon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>CHAPTER SUMMARY:</p><p>Reader leaves Piers’ house (without telling him) to go meet up with Victor early in the morning over on Route 10. The two go over what they know about VMax, Gloria’s disappearance, and the Wyndon Riots that plagued the region nearly 13 years ago. When Victor inquires more about Reader’s inability to Dynamax, she admits that it was because the connection between her and her partner Pokemon was “forcibly severed” when the Pokemon died. They then realize that the aggressive nature of the VMax band - how it does not require a bond to work, and how Reader and her Pokemon seem oddly out of sorts under its effects - is similar to that of the challenger from 13 years ago that instigated the Wyndon Riots with their death. They deduce that Macro Cosmos - thus, Chairman Rose - was responsible for the challenger’s death and in turn the riots. Gloria surely knew this information, so Victor becomes determined to get more evidence to support this theory in order to bring down the current administration. The two create a plan to meet with someone who may have information on what kind of BE band the Wyndon Riots challenger was wearing (Opal is the only one who may remember) during the Champion Cup. Reader agrees to assist by distracting Leon so Victor can easily converse with the fairy-type gym leader. Reader affirms once more that she incredibly, undeniably, indescribably hates Leon.</p><p>Meanwhile, Sonia is doing her thing, doing deeper research on the Darkest Day at a library. Information is old, outdated, and contraditory in many books, but eventually she stumbles across a book that mentions the existence of the second mysterious hero of Galar - Sir Rowain. Not much information is easily found on him, oddly enough - all that is noted is that he is commonly associated with the shield, if he is even mentioned at all. But a theory goes that Rowain was cast aside following the salvation of the region when his more popular brother, Sir Arthur, refused to share the now united kingdom of Galar. Sonia follows a trail of breadcrumbs, finding legend after legend that shows likelihood of relating back to this mysterious Rowain fellow. She ends up tracing much of his history and bloodline from Galar to Unova all the way back to Galar, and has reason to believe that she’s just found a living descendent and rightful heir to the Galar royal throne: Victor. With groundbreaking knowledge, Sonia gets to work on writing her book.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Fuck You and the Charizard You Rode in on (Actually, no, Charizard, You’re Chill)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Victor was kind enough to let you travel with him all the way to Wyndon. While it’s technically against policy for a gym leader to accompany gym challengers during their travels, you figured that you couldn’t have helped him out even if you wanted to. You had no pokemon at the moment, you didn’t have anything in your bag except for some waters and healing items (and your Eon Flute, but you tried to forget about that), not to mention Victor seemed to have a better geo-spatial awareness than you did. Like, wow, you don’t think that kid looked at his map for more than a minute before he single-handedly managed to navigate you both easily towards the giant gates of Wyndon City. And in good time, too; you weren’t sure you could sit through another frosty night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor let you go on ahead so you both wouldn’t be seen together. Couldn’t be too careful here, especially with it being the realm of Chairman Rose and Champion Leon. So, you parted ways, resulting in you making your way towards Wyndon Plaza. It wasn’t hard to find, with all the signs in the city pointing out the directions to every major location in the giant city. You wondered if they were always there, or if they were added with the coming of a rather directionally-inept champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your legs were sore, so you took a break by a beautiful Corviknight statue. The sun was just beginning its descent, melting the sky into a picturesque display of oranges and pinks and purples. A few children ran around, playing with their pokemon or human friends, and a few parents chatted together on the nearby benches. Everyone seemed so… happy, here. Personally, large cities really weren’t your scene (which was sort of the reason why you couldn’t help but be a little recluded from the public of Motostoke), but seeing everyone living so peacefully and happily made you suddenly ache for the memories of youth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so much easier to be happy as a child. When you’re young, the world is so big and wonderful and all you want to do is hurry up to see it all. But then your body grows up faster than your mind, and suddenly you’re learning </span>
  <em>
    <span>struggle </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappointment</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>heartbreak</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even though it had ended with a less than ideal curse, you dreamed of returning to the very beginning of your own gym challenge back home. You wanted nothing more than to be 10 years old again, racing from town to town with your best friend right beside you, eager to experience the glories of the world. And for the first time in years, you wondered what had become of your childhood best friend. The last time you’d seen him was at the airport right before you left to train with Kabu-sensei, shock filling his eyes as you turned your back on him. The mere memory sent a bitter laugh through your lips as you willed your own tears away. No doubt he was still out there, living the very dreams you both promised to attain together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re so lost in all those feelings that you fail to realize that someone is standing right in front of you until they move just an inch closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look up. They’re tall, looking down at you from a pair of dark designer sunglasses. They’re wearing a warm-looking gray hoodie with the hood up and over a simple red snapback on their head. Arms crossed, a devious smirk - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You don’t see any of his hair, but you can only assume with that uniquely shaved beard and the muscles that refuse to hide even beneath a thick sweater that his hair could only be purple. You frown and look away, crossing your legs with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Leon chuckles lightly. “I haven’t even said anything and you’re already mad at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gee, I wonder why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another laugh slips out of him. He stands there for a few more breaths before you start to get annoyed with all his shifting from foot to foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you just gonna stand there all day or what?” you can’t help but hiss. “Just tell me what you want so you can leave already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really should be asking you that question. We still have three more days before the Champion Cup - why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oops</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you manage to hide your inner panic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t think about that. Shit can’t let him know I was talking to Victor uhhhh</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to see the stadium,” you end up blurting out. “You know, get an idea of the layout and space. We want a good show for the cameras, don’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. For a moment, you swear that you can see his golden eyes sparkling underneath those dark shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offers you his hand. You frown at it, then frown at Leon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to see the stadium, right?” he leans forward a bit. “I’m the person who can do that for you, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of that makes sense and all, but you still don’t want anything to do with this man. Especially since he still manages to look like a piece of art in the second most annoying arrangement of clothes you’ve ever seen. So instead, you click your tongue and bat his arm to the side, standing up of your own volition. You don’t bother to see his expression when you start making your way to where all the signs say “WYNDON STADIUM”. Still, he lets out a quiet but audible click of the tongue and jogs up to your side. It’s a long walk where absolutely no further words are exchanged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, with the help of the signs all around the city, you both arrive at quite possibly the largest stadium you’ve ever seen. It’s styled very much like a rose, which annoys you to no end. Leon pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the front doors, stepping aside to allow your entry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>giant</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like, FUCK. Clearly this lobby is meant to serve the massive amounts of spectators that watch the battles rather than the competitors themselves, seeing as most of the lobby seems to be set up for long curving lines and the works. Leon catches your awe as you gaze around the room, crossing his arms as he pulls off his hoodie and sunglasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Impressed?” you hear him say as you inspect a few giant photographs depicted action shots from previous competitions. “This is the largest stadium in the entire region, and probably the best one, too. It’s my gym, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shoot him a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Way to ruin it, Leon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to see the field? I think that’s where you’ll really be surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hardly waits for your answer when he grabs the base of your neck and guides you down towards the locker rooms. You wish he wouldn’t hold you like that; it’s a little unnerving to feel his strong-looking hands holding a sensitive area with that strange sort of gentility. But you try not to think about all that too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The locker room is similarly giant, complete with benches, showers, flat-screens, punching bags (</span>
  <em>
    <span>da fuq?</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and (of course) lockers. But you don’t stay here for long, because Leon’s immediately pulling you down towards another hall. This one is strangely undecorated, having a few curious doors on the walls that you can’t help but notice. Where do those go? Eventually, though, he’s steering the two of you to the right, where you immediately spot the light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a long walk, and the echoes of your footsteps reverberates all around you. A strange feeling you can hardly describe settles into your stomach. The hallway felt more like some sort of mystical liminal space than anything; you certainly never felt like this when walking down the hall in your stadium in Motostoke. You risk a puzzled glance up at Leon, who continues to wear his amused smile. Without moving his head, he flicks his eyes down at you. Before he can say anything, you return your gaze forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you finally make it onto the field, and your breath is harshly stolen from you by the sheer size of it all. You gape in shock as Leon releases you in favor of continuing forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to my playground,” he beamed, giving a dramatic spin as he gestured to it all. “Everything a trainer could ask for. Best part is, most of it’s still shiny and new since last year’s remodel. I’d say that I spend more time here than I do in my own apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bounce your feet against the turf, pleasantly surprised to see how much more springy it is than your own stadium. And up above you are even more happy to find that it’s a perfect window to the impending night, the crescent moon making it’s ascent up to start up its band of stars. Yes, it really is a beautiful stadium, even though it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s…. Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s even more brilliant when you Dynamax. With the light of the storm and two massive pokemon having more space to battle than normal, it all really makes for a striking performance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bitter groan slips out of you. He just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to ruin it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon stepped towards you, tilting his head to the side with a playful smirk. Not as menacing as his past few, but you still can’t help but feel irritated by it. Maybe because it was his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on now. Even you have to admit that the power you get from Dynamaxing is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Having a super-boosted pokemon listening to your every command, blasting anyone who stands in your way with a brilliant attack - it’s addicting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know,” you cross your arms with a hiss. “I don’t remember any of my Dynamaxed matches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon’s smile fails. When he doesn’t say anything, you look away as you continue with a huff of frustrated air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ It’s like… one minute I’m holding the pokeball, and the next, I’m getting dragged down the pitch with the worst pain ever. Though, I’m sure your </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> up top told you that already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it’s Leon’s turn to frown. Okay, maybe you went a bit too far, but who can really blame you after all this nonsense?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve told you already - it was the only way. I don’t like the chairman any more than you do -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you’d do anything to please him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he’s holding -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your family hostage. Yeah, yeah, I know. But don’t you think the others know that? Don’t you realize that they’re in the same exact situation as you? For Arceus’ sake, Leon, we’re all literally the best trainers in the region and we’re still scared of just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one man</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t understand,” he stepped closer, frustration starting to build on his features, “Chairman Rose is powerful in his own way. He practically owns most of the region thanks to Macro Cosmos buying out all its competitors, and he’s close with the royal family - he basically </span>
  <em>
    <span>owns</span>
  </em>
  <span> all of Galar!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People are </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffering</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Leon. People who you act like are your goddamn friends! Do you even realize that? Do you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks to the side in a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why don’t you just quit living in your little fantasy land and stand the fuck up? You’re the unbeatable champion - </span>
  <em>
    <span>prove it</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I’m sure that if you just rallied everyone together, we all could bring him down once and for all! So stop playing the victim and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve already tried!” he threw his arms out. “I’ve tried and I failed and I almost lost everything in the process - I’m not going to lose everything I’ve fought so hard for just for people who don’t give a shit about me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you talking about?! You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>Champion fucking Leon</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not real</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shout actually startled you a bit. You instinctively inched backwards, eyes wide at his sudden blast of real anger. His fists tight against his sides, teeth gritted together - oh, yeah, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not a Leon that you wanted to see any more of. But thankfully, it didn’t last; seconds after the echo of his words faded away, he took several deep breaths to calm himself down. You watched in cautious silence as he lifted his cap a bit to run his fingers through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” he suddenly chuckled, “don’t tell me that I even had </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> fooled?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you remained silent, he gave you a rather pitiful smile as he raised his arms out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The person you’re looking at - this </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> - it’s not real. It’s just… a facade. Fake. Make-believe. Everyone’s got these ideas of what they want me to be, and it’s my job to make sure that I live up to their dreams. I don’t even remember the person I used to be before I put on the cape - not like that even matters. So no. People don’t give a shit about me. Not really. They don’t even know who I really am, and they don’t want to. Not Rose. Not Raihan… And definitely not you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You attempted to look into his eyes. And for once… you found absolutely nothing. Just a blank, empty set of eyes staring back at you. Not just emotionless, but entirely devoid of life. It wasn’t often you saw this in someone else - this man was dead, and had been for a very long time. You almost feel bad for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” you catch his attention. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> care. I don’t care who you are, or who you were. But it’s not because you’re unworthy of my attention - it’s because you’re acting like my opinion of you completely determines your worth.” When he furrows his brows, you continue. “Leon, people will think whatever they want. At the end of the day, there’s really nothing you can do to stop that. You can change your clothes, your hair, your face, your name, your personality - you can play that little celebrity game all day long for faceless people in the crowd - but when it’s finally nighttime and you’re all alone, will </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to be around yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked a few times. For a moment, you thought he would accept your words with a small, redeemable smile. That he would find the error of his ways and vow to make things right for everybody. But because it’s Leon - the unbeatable </span>
  <em>
    <span>asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span> - he only sends you a vicious snarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There it is again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saying just what you think you need to say in order to reach people’s hearts. You fucking hypocrite - you’re exactly the same as me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, FUCK no.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry - last time I checked, I didn’t fucking give a total stranger a fucked-up battle enhancer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span>! If I didn’t offer the VMax band, you’d be at the mercy of the chairman! But maybe I should’ve just let that happen, because you’re just being ungrateful and a pain in my ass!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no fucking clue</span>
  </em>
  <span> what a fucking nightmare this thing is! I don’t remember my battles, I’m in constant pain, Arcanine acts so strangely sometimes that I get worried he’s going to lash out and hurt somebody, and - oh yeah, did I mention that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking hurts?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you rather be dead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At this point, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>! At this stupid fucking point in my life, I fucking wish I’d actually died in back Hoenn so I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to go through this shit-storm-ass-league-</span>
  <em>
    <span>BULLSHIT</span>
  </em>
  <span> that you seem more than content to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffer through</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon squinted at you. It takes a minute, but it suddenly dawns on you what you just said. All the color leaves your face as Leon searches your eyes. Ah, finally, a prime example as to why you never like to let your true colors show: you’re an asshole, and you get flustered easily with little chance of recovery. Whoopsy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...What do you mean “</span>
  <em>
    <span>actually died</span>
  </em>
  <span>”?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s none of your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You straightened your legs, attempting to stand your ground as he leered in. He’s close - painfully close. It’s a bad idea, you’re sure, but you’d rather die getting what you deserved. So you summoned all your confidence and stared him darkly in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just ask Rose?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You practically feel his blood pressure shooting through the roof with the vitriolic glare he sends into you. His breath just barely grazes your nose in a painfully even rhythm, and you get the idea he’s calculating whether he wants to strangle the life out of you with the way his hands tremble at his sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” His voice is remarkably calm for someone who’s about ready to fucking snap. “Who are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a haunting truth in his words. You don’t know why they bother you so much, especially with the way he’s looking at you right at that moment. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> close to you, yet remaining so perfectly still before your person. His words repeat in your head, sensing that curious hint of warmth to his tone. Despite yourself, your eyes glint down at his lips before snapping back up to his eyes. A spark of intrigue runs through the amber, pulling him just a bit closer to you. A part of you is screaming at you to pull back, to high-tail it out of there without so much as a single backward glance. Another part of you, one from a much darker portion of your gut, brings up a painful counterpoint: </span>
  <em>
    <span>he cares about you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That single phrase ran circles through your fogged up mind, clouding your perhaps better judgement. It makes it hard to flinch when his fingers suddenly graze your arms. It makes it even harder to lean back when you feel his lips just barely brush against yours. It’s a terrible idea and you know you shouldn’t be doing this and you’re almost positive that he knows that too and yet here you are moments away from doing something </span>
  <em>
    <span>really fucking stupid </span>
  </em>
  <span>and -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows shoot together in frustration. With a click of his tongue, he pulls back, giving you a most sour glance before shoving past your shoulder. His sheer size is enough to make you stumble a bit, but that part didn’t really bother you so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did it again. That seduction garbage. It’s a pointless game that’s always left you in such a state that the fact that you’re back in the heat of it leaves you seething with a rage unlike any other. You spin around, hissing out his name. He stops, but doesn’t even bother to turn around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After everything that you’ve done, you want me to believe that you’re really this tragic hero that has everyone’s best interests at heart? Well, you’re wrong. You don’t know anything about me. At the end of the day, I’m happy with all the masks I wear because I know that the real me isn’t as good of a person as she could be. But you, no - you do it just because you’re selfish, because you want people to like you just so you can feel loved. You don’t want to make people happy - you want people to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy. Well guess what? You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> be happy. You will never be happy because you refuse to seek any long-term solution and are so goddamn impatient that you always do whatever solves the problem the fastest. You keep your family under constant threat, even though you could just take a risk and keep them safe forever. But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And now, you never will, because if you take Rose down now, you know you’re next. No matter who you are or who you were, the world will </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. Your friends will, your family will - everyone will. So don’t tell me you care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t move an inch, but his voice still reaches you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns around. His eyes glimmer with… something. You don’t care to read them. There’s a chance you already know what they hold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you,” you growl through gritted teeth. “You’re a rotten person and I hate you with every fucking fiber of my being.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he turns back around and makes his way down the field. You watch him the whole way, chest moving up and down from your passionate outburst. By the time you finally regain some relative composure, he’s long gone. You take a minute to smooth your clothes, run a hand across the top of your hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You really didn’t want to think about it, but you might have seen a woeful sort of hopefulness there in his eyes. Even moreso, you don’t want to think about how a welt of guilt begins to rise from your stomach, dancing violently all around your throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky was pitchblack by the time you made it back to the plaza. By some miraculous stroke of luck, there was one last Corviknight taxi there, ready for one last ride before calling it. You paid and hopped in, trying in vain to distract yourself from the altitude and… well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever just happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You made some progress, in that regard; occasionally you’d finally be filled with thoughts of potential strategies against challengers or how you really wanted to see Chandelure against a real opponent, only to end up thinking about being out in the stadium in a few days, the stadium in Wyndon, which belonged to Leon - and then next thing you know, you thinking about his breath on your face and his hands on your arms. Every single time it happens you groan in frustration, shaking your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely no, nope, nuh-uh, no way, hard pass.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But still, the thought remains.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>… I… didn’t actually enjoy that, did I?</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. If Anything Happens to These Kids, I Will Kill Everyone in Galar and Then Myself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright! We're at the Champion Cup Arc! Thanks to everyone for helping us make it this far - you're all as amazing as the daring fire-type gym leader herself!</p><p>Just so y'all get an idea of how far along we are in the story, we've got about 3 more weeks worth of updates (6 chapters) before the Season 2 Finale. After that, we jump into Act 3 (which is still being written) and then I think we'll have at least an Act 4 (possible small Act 5) before the Grand Finale of "Triple-Decker Whiplash." So it's safe to say that we're right about at a half-way point. Isn't that exciting, hehe~?</p><p>But before we all get super excited about getting shit-ton more of content for this fic in the coming months, I've got something small to say - I might take at least a couple weeks off before starting Act 3. Also, I, uh, really need to make more progress bc we're getting closer to my WIP chapters, haha;;;; I haven't decided yet, so just keep that in mind! Of course, I'll let you guys know the week before I take my break - I won't just go all MIA if I can help it, lol. I also wanna try getting some other smaller-scale ff projects going for next year. But again, nothing's set in stone - we'll just play it by ear, y'all.</p><p>So anyway, I'll shut up~! Here's the latest chapter of TDW: the first episode (episode?) of the Champion Cup Arc, the Challenger Semi-Finals!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finally, it was time. Friday arrived, and so did the second and climatic segment of the Galar Gym Challenge season: The Champion Cup Semifinals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of you already knew that it wouldn’t be climatic just because of the thrilling matches leading up to a momentous battle between challenger and champion. No, you’d been in this exact position before; there was a strange intensity in the air that only you seemed to notice. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span> was coming. All you could hope was that everyone would make it out of this in one piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gathered up all you needed - some clothes, toiletries, battle items, snacks and waters, pokemon - and was on the train to Wyndon before the clock struck eight. While you didn’t technically need to reach the stadium until noon, you wanted to get there early so you could get your hotel room and kind of hype yourself up to watch the challengers’ matches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The city was bustling, flooded with rowdy spectators carrying signs and noisemakers and overall just being excited fans. You recognized faces of the young challengers among the posters, counted at least three for every gym leader (even you - how cool!), and at least several hundred for Champion Leon. You didn’t even bother to hide the resentment written all over your face as you resisted the urge to tear them down and rip every last one of Leon’s fake plastered smiles into tiny pieces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you expected to find yourselves holed up in another fancy-schmany Budew Drop Inn, you were a bit startled to find that everyone instead was given instructions to check in at the Rose of Rhodelands. Of course, Rose would stuff you all in his own goddamn hotel. You just wished it weren’t so nice. The staff was nice, the atmosphere was nice - goddammit, fuck this shit. The sweet attendant at the front desk happily got you all set up, gave you your room key, and bid you a happy experience. It always sucked when you couldn’t even justify your hatred of something that was so very pleasant. So you managed a decent smile and headed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a nauseating ride up the elevator (</span>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell was up with Rose and tall ass buildings?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>), you found your room and settled in. It was definitely fancy - the room was drenched in bougie minimalist decorations with a boring black and white theme, but at least the red rose accents made it a bit more digestible (albeit a bit pretentious). So you do the first thing anybody does when they arrive at a stupid-fancy hotel and steal all the free toiletries, smiling in pride knowing that you’ll save them for later and instead use your own toiletries. Because that’s what you do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eleven o’clock came along, and you ate a small breakfast down in the commons before heading off. Again, you were early, but you’d rather be early than late. So on you went to that melodramatic stadium, trying to ignore the phantom memories of your prior experience in such a place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You managed to squeeze into the lobby with the help of some employees that recognized you (the crowd was right ravenous), and were allowed entry to the competitor-area of the room. There, you immediately locked eyes with a pair of rather jittery children. They all cheered your name and nearly knocked you down with how fast they came at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today’s the day!” Hop cheered, arms crossed with a determined grin on his cute little face. “We finally get to see who’s the strongest one among us, and then it’s just waiting time before the final march to championhood!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor snickered, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Uh, Hop? I don’t think that ‘championhood’ is a word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if Lee can make ‘champion’ an adjective, then I can make ‘championhood’ a word! It’s all part of my amazing legend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor and you shared a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Hop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie shuffled awkwardly beside Victor as if trying to discreetly earn your attention. You gave her a bright smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you, Marnie? Feeling excited? I bet your heart is burning with excitement!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave the teeniest-tiniest smile. “... Yeah, actually… A little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, these </span>
  <em>
    <span>angels</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They all looked up at you with these big, hopeful puppy-dog eyes that just made your heart melt into goo. All of them so excited, so prepared, so youthful - it reminded you of the good old days before everything turned to shit. You couldn’t resist pulling all three teens into a tight embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You three are some of the best trainers I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a lot of trainers,” you said above their giggles and protests. “I’m so proud of every one of you. If I earn the opportunity to battle one of you again this season, I want to see your very best. Show the world how much you’ve all grown and improved. Prove to everyone out there in those stands that you’ve got what it takes to be the next unbeatable champion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you released your hold, you were actually surprised to find some teary, embarrassed eyes. Victor straightened his back to give you a serious look of determination despite his slight grin and rosy-cheeks. Hop scratched his cheek, blushing profusely but trying to play it off with a nervous laugh. Marnie looked off to the side, trying to hide an evolving blush of her own. Yeah, these kids were adorable. You’d adopt them all, if you could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d also lay siege on the entire universe if anything happened to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Victor nodded, taking the initiative since the other two competitors were apparently too flustered by your passionate sentiment, “we’re really grateful for your encouragement. So, please continue to cheer for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple of staff members called for the gym challengers to start making their way towards the locker rooms. You gave the kids one more look, as if desperately trying to memorize the innocence on their faces. You prayed that you wouldn’t need to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the employees that helped you into the lobby approached you, a shy smile on his face even beneath a pair of those shifty-looking Macro Cosmos shades. Why he was wearing them indoors, you really didn’t want to know. It was probably a part of that stupid MC uniform. Dumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gym Leader [Y/n], there is a section saved for spectating gym leaders up in the home-side stands,” he piped up. “Would you like me to escort you there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The employee nodded and guided you around the crowd and down an employee-access-only section of the lobby. You followed him down a set of long, narrow, interconnecting halls before eventually walking through a door. Immediately, you’re blasted by the sound of cheering spectators, those fortunate enough to already have their pre-bought seats. The two of you walked up into the stands, all the way up to the top, where a fancy-looking set of seats resided below a large overheat awning. They weren’t metal slabs like the rest of the stands were; these were built-in seats, similar to those in a movie theater. Hey, perks of being a rich-bitch, now. A few had things like blankets or jackets resting on them, and you recognized a couple other gym leaders scattered here and there. You also noticed a strange lack of a particularly tall dragon-type specialist in the stands, his iconic items nowhere to be seen. But this revelation soon faded when you ended up locking eyes with a very set of pale blue eyes. For a moment, it felt as though the entire world had frozen solid. You forgot that this was a possibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The employee ran away, perhaps intimidated by the brief glare that Piers sent his way. But when you took a hesitant step forward, Piers was back to his regular tired expression, albeit a slight sparkle in his eyes. He patted the seat next to him, and you gave a quick thanks as you slipped in beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Followed by an awkward silence. Good job, you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You ran through every sort of explanation in your mind, hoping to find the set of words that would best describe everything that you’d been through since the other night without saying too much. You were kinda failing epically at that. But, thankfully, Piers leans forward, propping his chin up with a fist with his elbows digging into his thin legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t hafta apologize,” he sighed out, keeping his voice low despite being so far away from the other gym leaders. “I’m not upset or nothin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look over at him, a bit surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not anymore. To be honest, I don’t really remember all that much of what happened exactly. Just woke up bein’ upset that you weren’t there, I guess. I mean, I kinda figured out what happened ‘cause… well, uh…” When you sent him a curious expression, he muddled onwards, trying to hide his pink-tinged cheeks with his fringe. “... ‘cause I woke up knowing that I really do feel some sort of way about you. Figured that I’d probably done somethin’ to scare you off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not,” you hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, it was a bit surprising, sure, but only because I wasn’t expecting it, is all. I’m not upset with you either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why’d you leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pang of guilt hit you square in the chest with how soft his words were. They certainly didn’t fit his whole aesthetic, and yet you couldn’t imagine anyone having a more melodic, emotional tone of voice other than Piers. He could be a tough guy, sure, but it gave you a bit of warmth knowing that he felt that he could show a more vulnerable side of him in front of you, too. Your heart fluttered a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mentioned something,” you pick your words carefully, “about the kids being in danger. I want to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers turned to you, clearly caught off-guard. It only lasted a moment, however, before he suddenly frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. Last thing you need is to be in any more danger than you already are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re just kids, Piers, we’ve gotta do something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but…” he glances back to the field for a second. “I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. It’s bad enough havin’ Marnie at risk ‘cause of me. I can’t lose the only two people I care about to this shit-hole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though his words sound bitter, you find enough sentiment there to be truly endeared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s sweet that you want to keep me safe,” you give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, “but you don’t need to be alone in this. Besides, I’m the fire-type gym leader for a reason, you know. I’m stronger than I look. So, please, let me help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks at you. Then a little more. For a moment, you worry that he’s going to do something impulsive, when he gives you a determined smile. His eyes suddenly ignite with a new passion, flames dancing around in mischievous light blue sparks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s raise hell together, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You have no time to respond when the announcers suddenly pick up over the stadium speakers.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ladies and gentlemen - are you all ready for the 115th annual Champion Cup Semifinals to begin?!?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd erupts into wild, maniacal cheers. You and Piers turn your attention back to the field, where an announcer seems to be standing in the center. You’re both so high up that he’s hardly visible, just an ant way below your feet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn this stadium really is the biggest one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We have a rather exciting line-up for you today. The three remaining challengers of this year’s challenge are some of the…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly groans beside you, leaning back into his seat to kick his heeled metal boots over the seat in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, these matches are always so fuckin’ overkill. Just fuckin’ get on with it, ya fuckin’ twat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stifle your laughter with a shrug of your shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s kinda overdramatic, but everyone’s having a good time. It’s not hurting anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s hurtin’ my patience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another snicker escapes your mouth as Piers shoots you a satisfied smirk. You manage to hone in on whatever’s going on in the stadium once more, and poke Piers’ cheek in an attempt to get him to focus, as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pay attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” he says innocently, still looking at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the </span>
  <em>
    <span>field</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffs and rolls his eyes before staring down at the ungodly-sized battlefield. It doesn’t bother you, though, because he’s still got that devious smirk on his face. Yeah, okay, it’s definitely doing something for you. But you try to ignore that fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Since there are only three semifinalists in this year’s challenge, the battles will be organized in a round robin format. Each challenger will therefore have the opportunity to battle each other for points. The victor of today’s matches will then move on to tomorrow’s finals.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Another pause for some applause and cheers. You laugh when you hear Piers mutter for them to just get on with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The first match of today will be between Challengers 189 and 960.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A huge blast of sound suddenly assaults your ears. Noisemakers of the worst variety - air horns, clappers, vuvuzelas - oh, and quite literally the </span>
  <em>
    <span>loudest fucking cheering you’ve ever fucking heard in your life</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What made it worse was that Piers totally joined in, jumping to his feet and raising his voice to impossible volumes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“BEAT HIS BLOODY ARSE, MARNIE!!!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> before devolving into mindless shouts and hollers as she entered the field. You settled for some light applause, coughing in your painful laughter at Piers’ outburst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the two challengers exchanged a few determined words, the crowd settled down (more or less) and Piers was back to normal, albeit completely engrossed in the scene before you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he’s gonna cheer on Marnie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you remind yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The battle starts right after the announcer shouts “</span>
  <em>
    <span>BEGIN</span>
  </em>
  <span>”. Marnie immediately takes the offence, eager to knock Hop off his game as soon as possible. Much to your joy, Hop seems prepared for this, ready to pull out counter-attacks whenever he feels cornered. It’s an interesting battle, to say the least - both Hop and Marnie butt heads in equally offensive strategies, hot and cold personalities bashing together to create a rather invigorating match. Every so often you’d hear Piers mutter soft comments into the air, as if he could somehow reach his little sister with his advice and reassurance. You don’t tell him, but you figure that with him cheering so much for Marnie, you should cheer a little extra for Hop. It’s hard not to, especially when the youth is overflowing with golden passion and excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the explosive storm that is Dynamax settles down, only Hop’s Cinderace is left standing. The crowd is lost in its cheers. You pass a worried glance at Piers, who is still leaning in as close as possible to see the action, only to see him sighing with what looks like relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, kid,” he whispers under his breath before leaning back into his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two teens shake hands, share a few more sportly words of encouragement, and proceed to exit the field. A small, fifteen minute intermission goes by, most of which you spend discussing the strategies and key decisions made by both parties with Piers. It’s times like these where you really remember that he’s technically the third-best trainer in the region; even though he regards battling with a relative air of indifference, he definitely knows what he’s talking about. A part of you really wants to know just how much more powerful he and his team could be if they used battle enhancers, though you ended up deciding that he was good enough without them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Alright, everyone,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the announcer’s voice picked up again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“the second match of the day will be between Challengers 960 and 39.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like last time, the Marnie fan club that was mostly Team Yell members exploded with illegal levels of sound, screaming and yelling and overall just disrupting the peace. But it sort of fit the aesthetic, so it didn’t actually bother you. You looked over giddily as Piers took a deep breath, amping himself up before rocking to his feet and screaming something so slang-filled you weren’t really sure what language it was. But you definitely heard “arse” a few times extra. Again, once the crowd was painstakingly calmed down by employees and the announcer, Piers fell back into his seat and became entirely fixated on his sister’s performance. You’ve been rendered speechless by whiplash many times before, but this was totally new; how a punk went from moody to overbearingly sweet to wild-fanboy-big-brother in such record time left you blushing from the cuteness of it all. The only reason you didn’t tease him about it was because you were scared he’d stop. And that would </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> be a crime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor and Marnie shook hands, shared their own set of words, and the battle began. About halfway through, you noticed something particularly interesting about Victor’s battle style; it wasn’t just that he risked having a less directly offensive battle style, but it was that he also seemed to emulate whoever he was up against. You didn’t really see that at the time you watched him battle Raihan, but now that he’s up against the offensive Marnie, it’s much clearer. Her attempts to corner his pokemon are constantly found out and thwarted, leading to quick, strong attacks that end up leaving her in tight spaces, as well. He’s near matched her level of icy intensity, calculating her next possible attack with shocking accuracy. While Hop was more focused on the power of his pokemon’s attacks, Victor is paying more attention to the efficiency. Each move is perfectly timed, amazingly demonstrated, and - as a result - remarkably more powerful than they would in less optimal conditions. This kid is definitely something else. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie is once again left standing under the falling debris of Dynamax, returning her Grimmsnarl with a slight frown on her face. Victor doesn’t cheer or celebrate like Hop does, interestingly enough. He just thanks his pokemon and returns them. Somehow, that warms your heart even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hear Piers lean back into his seat once more beside you, and you turn to see his expression. He seems remarkably relaxed, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And, all things considered, you suppose that it has. He throws his head back and stares off at the bright blue sky above your heads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s over,” he exhales at last. “Unless there’s a tie, she’s out. Now I just gotta worry about her takin’ over the gym.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try not to worry </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much,” you try to reassure him. “She’s a smart kid and a damn good trainer, even in defeat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers risked a faint smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s better than me. I don’t even gotta battle her to know it.” He looks over at you. “Thanks for remindin’ me of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next intermission is rife with discussion all over the crowd, people deliberating endlessly over the upcoming final battle between the two teenage rivals. Everyone seemed to be asking the same question: between two inseparable, powerful friends, who would be the best? Personally, you didn’t want to make up your mind right away. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been proven wrong on the outcome of a battle, so best to reserve judgement until it was due. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re both good,” Piers shrugged, “but if I had to choose, I’d say Victor. He keeps a calm head even when he’s in a bad spot, and finds a way out. Hop gets too caught up on one little mess-up and it all goes to pot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. For the third and final match of today’s semifinals, Challengers 189 and 39 will take the field!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd cheered, but it was a little less chaotic (and painful) than it was for Marnie’s two matches. Similarly, Piers was (unsurprisingly) much less enthusiastic, only opting for a pathetic set of bored claps before kicking his feet back up on the back of the seat in front of him. You decided to clap a little louder for the both of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two boys stand before each other, sharing their own sentiments before their final battle together. You can’t help but notice that they both are standing much closer to each other than they did in their own matches with Marnie. You can’t hide the knowing smirk on your face watching the two suddenly embrace in a tight hug, earning a unanimous “Aww” from the crowd. Piers makes an exaggerated hacking sound next to you, but you shush him. Could these two boys possibly get </span>
  <em>
    <span>any more cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But all that cuddly bromance (you knew it wasn’t “bromance” exactly, but you had a feeling that the boys didn’t know that so </span>
  <em>
    <span>shhh no spoilers</span>
  </em>
  <span>) soon vanished once they took to their respective sides of the field. A sudden spark of electricity ran between them, amping up the crowd to newfound levels of excitement when they unleashed their first pokemon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>spectacular</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both boys were so in-sync with their partners, and so perfectly made to battle each other. One side called an attack, the other called a counter. It was a dance, elegant and smooth, leaving hardly any room for breath as they expertly commanded their pokemon on the field. Pokemon battles are hardly what one would call “beautiful,” and yet this was the only word you could think to describe the way these two fought. Pure, raw, energetic, creative, passionate - every word you could think of got you more and more engraved into their every decision. Now it was your turn to lean forward in your seat, eager to absorb more of whatever was going on in front of you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt genuinely in love with pokemon battling, and just watching these two made you want to try and find that love again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both were down to their final pokemon - Inteleon versus Cinderace. For a moment, you felt a little bad. You didn’t want it to come down to a type advantage - you wanted it to be a matter of skill. But neither boy seemed too affected by this realization, as they immediately Gigantamaxed their respective partners and set up their finishing moves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard Piers let out a small whistle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, I’m not really a big fan of Dynamax… But I gotta admit: even I’m a bit excited right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All you can do is nod. This battle enhancer was total overkill, but it never failed to steal your breath away whenever you saw it. A part of you longed to experience the</span>
  <em>
    <span> real</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing someday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Piers was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not until the final second of both sides’ Dynamax turns where a finishing blow is landed. Hop’s Cinderace staggers under the perfectly-timed power of Inteleon’s G-Max Hydrosnipe, and it’s energy is expelled from its body in a giant explosion. Hop struggles to keep standing as the wind shoves past him, eventually leaving a fainted Cinderace a few feet away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, you worry. Hop looks down, shuts his eyes tight as a wave of powerful emotions run through his body, forcing his hands into trembling fists at his sides. But it soon dissolves. He relaxes, exhales, and looks back up at Victor, a tired smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You did it, mate,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> his voice suddenly rings through his headset and out the speakers, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You really are the best.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then something amazing happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor’s emotionless stare suddenly filled up with tears, his hands running briefly through his short brown hair for a moment as he tried to calm himself down. Eventually, though, he just shook his head, a giant smile running across his face. You all watched him suddenly take off in a sprint, racing across the field before barreling straight into his best friend. Hop, taken by surprise, fell to the ground, eventually bursting into laughter as he wrapped his arms around Victor. The crowd burst into cheers, hundreds of thousands of people jumping to their feet to give a standing ovation. You, of course, joined in, because that was probably the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever seen in the history of existence. Piers groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, yeah, we get it - they love each other. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Woohoo</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had your moment, now let them have theirs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers looked away, pretending not to have heard that despite his reddening face. As you looked back out to the field, you watched the two boys trying in vain to pick themselves back up with how hard they were laughing. Tears streamed down both of their faces, and they were blushing so intensely that you could very clearly see from all the way up top. So, you clapped even louder, giving the two of them all the love in the world. They definitely deserved it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just can't NOT write Piers being adorable, now, can I? sdjgfhgfdgf...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. In Which Leon Finally Grows a Pair and Attempts To No Be a Shit-head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Snow tumbled delicately down from the sky, drowning the once leafy green pastures of Postwick into a realm of white. Leon gazed up at the colorless sky above him, eyes fluttering every so often whenever a playful snowflake tickled his eyelashes or melted down his cheek. He was shivering, mostly because he was laying down on a mound of snow with only his fluffy jean jacket doing something to keep him from turning into an icicle. But that didn’t bother him so much. The youth valued his time out in the open, as it was the best place to find enough silence to daydream away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The sound of nearing footsteps caught his attention. He pushed himself up, fingers digging into the snow below as he scanned the area. Just down the path he caught sight of a tall man, dressed in a long black coat, looking at the boy with a small smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought you left for Wyndon, already,” Leon beamed, jumping up to his feet and throwing himself into the man’s awaiting embrace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And I thought you said you were going to Sonia’s.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“O-oh, um, well…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man suddenly burst out laughing, ruffling the boy’s wild purple locks. He had a feeling that the boy might need a bit more than gel to keep that mane contained. But nobody really had the heart to cut his hair, so wild it remained.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let me guess - you got lost.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So, you came all the way down near the forest on your way to see Sonia? The opposite way?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon huffed, pulling away just enough to cross his arms and look away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I, uh, was… Looking for pokemon, is all. I got a bit distracted.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man gave Leon a small smile. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You should be a bit more mindful of where you are. I don’t want you wandering off into Slumbering Weald because you got yourself lost.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The wild-haired youth muttered an apology as the man took the boy by the shoulder. The two began their walk down the shoveled path, listening to the crunch of their footsteps ring into their ears against the quiet hush around them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Dad?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hm?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon looked up at his father, his bright golden eyes shining with a bit of sadness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why do you have to go to Wyndon?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Leon, we’ve been through this befo -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t have to go, though. I already talked to the Professor - I can help out over at her lab and she’ll pay me. That way, you don’t have to be so far away all the time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man winced a bit. Leon could see that his father didn’t enjoy having to leave so often and for so long, so he wanted to do anything he could to help out. But his father just looked down at the boy with a cheery smile, his own amber eyes glinting with pride in his child.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But if you’re working with the professor, who’s going to protect your mum?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon frowned. He didn’t think of that part.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, yeah…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His father chuckled a bit, looking forward. Their small, old house waited in the distance, now, a little plume of smoke rising up from the chimney. Dinner was probably almost ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve always been such a helpful sport, Leon. I’m sure your mum appreciates your wanting to help as much as I do. But for now, I want you to focus on being a kid for a little while longer. So, as long as you help around the house, do good in school, and keep an eye on the house while I’m not around, then you’re being the greatest help to all of us. Not to mention that you’ll have to start thinking about protecting your baby brother, too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon couldn’t resist smiling at that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t wait to teach him everything I know about pokemon! I’ll show him my posters and my handbook and THEN, when I do my gym challenge, I’ll give him and Mum and you rides on my Charizard, and -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Whoa, whoa, whoa - a </span>
  </em>
  <span>Charizard</span>
  <em>
    <span>?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh-huh!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why a Charizard?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because they’re awesome!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man burst into a booming laugh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A Charizard would be excellent for you! You have the passion of a fire-type, that’s for sure. Though, I’m not sure how we’ll go about finding one all the way in Galar, I’m looking forward to seeing all that you accomplish with your Charizard, someday.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just you wait - I’m gonna be champion, and then, you’ll never have to go all the way to Wyndon for work! We’ll be super rich and I’ll buy us a new house and everything!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They approached the door. Leon’s father paused to brush off some of the snow that covered their bodies, and made a pathetic attempt at brushing down the boy’s chaotic cowlicks. Well, they would just have to stay like that, he supposed. They could go away when he gets older, perhaps.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hm… ‘My son, the champion’... I think I could get used to that. Just don’t get so caught up in the ‘What’ and focus more on the ‘Why’. It’s easy to lose yourself on the way up that mountain, so always remind yourself of the reasons why you keep climbing, alright?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon puffed up his chest, giving a brilliant smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Right!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man gave the boy one more pat on the head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Attaboy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leon gazed out at the city streets of Wyndon, fingertips just barely against the cool glass. So high up in the air, everything below him looked so small, so insignificant. Like ants below his feet, hardly worth a second glance before being trampled underneath. A slow, throbbing pain rubbed through his heart. Here he was, finally at the top of the mountain, but at what cost?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It never gets old,” Chairman Rose’s voice suddenly caught the champion’s attention from the side. “The view from up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. You can see everything, even past the gates of the city. It’s almost as good as flying, I would say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chairman silently agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon, remind me again… What was the reason you wanted to become champion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caught off-guard, Leon frowned. It took him a moment to collect himself to think of an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… wanted to help my family. This was my best chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s amazing what a little bit of determination and effort can produce, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon knew that the chairman was always cryptic and odd when it came to his explanations, but now, he was really confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You started entirely from the ground up. A boy who had nothing managed to pull himself up into the land of wealth and power. The living Galarian dream. It’s been a long journey for you, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon sighed, sounding a bit too somber. He caught his hollow reflection in the glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… It has.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose chuckled to himself. The champion could see the businessman stuff his hands in his pockets, gazing fondly down at the evening cityscape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Human beings are such amazingly complex creatures. Time and time again, we will stand against probability in hopes of attaining our wildest dreams. So very few of us actually ever see the fruits of our labors, but those who do encourage the rest of us to continue tending to those gardens. Some see fruit in a few years, most will forever tend to barren plants. I’d like to think that it’s the idea of participating in a fool’s errand that makes success all the most wonderful when you finally attain it for yourself. So wonderful… many would give </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a chance to grasp it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon’s shoulders slumped a bit more. He could only hear the words of everyone he’d let down in the process of attaining his own success. A horrible, haunting cacophony of screams, eager to remind him of his greed and pride until his fall from grace. He wished Rose would just shut up already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That all being said,” Chairman Rose started up again, “I believe it is my time to finally earn the fruit of my labors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon looked over at the older man, clearly confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? You already…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Already have everything I could want?” the man filled in Leon’s trail-off. “I suppose it’s easy to think that. I have a multi-billion dollar company, I’ve gained powerful allies, and I’ve revived the single-most cherished competition in the entire world for our very own region. But, no… none of that was what I was searching for. Those were just little victories amid the raging war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon didn’t like where this was going. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t like the way this was going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what are you looking for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose grinned. Slowly, he backed away from the window, opting to walk back towards the center of his office. Leon watched carefully, keeping his guard up. Rose could be terribly unpredictable; anything was possible if the chairman was up to something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew up hearing legends of knights and heroes for as long as I could remember” the man began, voice effortlessly reverberating around the room. “I remember back when I was a lad, I dreamed of defeating the demons and monsters that plagued the world with a magical sword and shield, just like the legend of Arthur. But, as I grew older, I began to realize that it would be foolish to dream of such antiquated, barbaric things. So, I found myself in the business scene, ready to bring about a world where everyone is safe and happy and perfect. A utopia. A dream. My perfect world.” The man halted in the middle of the room, looking over at the champion from across the way. “A world where the light is always on, where children don’t go hungry, where darkness cannot reach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m confused,” Leon said plainly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose laughed, perhaps more amused than he really should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive my ramblings, boy. I’ll just cut to the chase. There will come a day where Galar will lose all its energy, and millions upon millions of people will be left with nothing to eat but snow and misery. I want to make sure that the day of eternal darkness never comes to fruition. I want to see to it that Galar has limitless energy, enough power to run for an eternity and </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, we already have enough energy,” Leon tried to reason, realizing that his gut feeling was definitely onto something. “Galar is one of the wealthiest regions in the world right now, and we have thousands of programs in place to combat severe poverty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But what about in the future? If nothing works, then even those programs will be powerless to help anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But a region-wide blowout? It’s entirely unlikely, sir. I don’t see us running out of usable energy for maybe centuries from now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may be right, Leon. But we can never be too careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… You mean to tell me that you have a plan to give Galar endless energy. What might that be, exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you asked. I’m sure you will appreciate my genius, as many tend to do, so I will be so kind as to share my idea with you in advance.” He spread his arms out wide, a proud grin on his face. “Through the very power that gave Galar its status in the first place, I shall be the one to make Galar the single-most influential region on the globe. For you see, I have figured out the secret behind the ancient technique of Dynamax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon paled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you have?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I have. According to legend, the region was drenched in an endless night for seemingly no reason before a godly hero emerged from the earth to save the day. Well, what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t some unknown evil corrupting the land. It was a pokemon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chairman paused, as if waiting for Leon to react. The champion remained still. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course it was a pokemon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Leon wanted to scream, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything mysterious that happens is because of a bloody pokemon!</span>
  </em>
  <span> The chairman shrugged and continued on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This pokemon fell to the earth over seven centuries ago in the form of a meteorite. The pieces of this meteorite and in loo the pokemon scattered all over the region as Wishing Stars, powerful enough to turn normal pokemon into enhanced giants. This pokemon was the reason behind the Darkest Day - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eternatus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon felt a chill run up his spine. There it was again - that bad gut feeling. He wanted to hope that this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. Surely the chairman wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>narcissistic?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eternatus is an alien being overflowing with endless energy, entirely self-fueling without ever growing tired. In the right hands, it could be exactly what this region needs to become the perfect utopia I know it could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the words slipped out faster than he could stop them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose cocked his head in curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I… What I mean… is…” Leon fought for words, only to find himself caving in. Suddenly, your enraged words fluttered into his head, giving him a volt of confidence to plant his feet into the floor. “No. I won’t allow you to use a pokemon for something as selfish as that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Selfish?” the chairman rubbed his chin with a thoughtful hum. “In what way? I am doing this for the good of the Galarian people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you can control something as powerful as an alien pokemon? It’s entirely too risky - even for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, chairman! If you were to lose control of it, it would spell disaster for all of Galar!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not to worry - I have many precautions in place so that Eternatus remains in my control. All I ask is that you capture the beast the moment we release it - once it has been contained, then all of its never-ending energy will be ours to share with our people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rubbed his face, frustration bubbling up in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is incredibly dangerous, sir - if the plan fails, millions of lives could be at stake!.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when has that stopped us before? Certainly you would know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon balled his fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I refuse to have anything to do with this! I won’t let you use me any more just to serve your own ambitions!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even at the risk of losing -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Leon growled, “even at the risk of you hurting my family. I’m not just some puppet. So threaten me all you want - I </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. But I’m not going to put anyone else’s lives in danger just so you can steal yourself a place in the history books!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose blinked in honest surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time the young man had actually raised his voice at him. He took a few seconds to recover before devolving into an amused grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My, you’ve grown in your years as champion, Leon. Though, I should have known you’d grow more rebellious in your age. Do you value your selective morality more than your loved ones, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t let you anywhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. If you so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at my family, I’ll be there, steady to strike you down once and for all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do realize,” Rose shrugged, “that if I go down, I will undoubtedly take you with me. The truth will flood to the surface, and you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory to the entire world. Are you sure you can handle that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s what it takes, then yes. I won’t allow you to jeopardize the safety of millions of innocent people. Even if that means throwing myself off the mountain I spent years climbing up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon might have been expecting the chairman to get upset. Maybe yell at him, go into the whole ‘We could have been gods!’ evil villain script - maybe even kill him right then and there. But no, Chairman Rose just stood there, looking as entertained as ever. Leon had half the mind to run up there and beat the ever-loving shit out of the middle-aged man when the sounds of distant shouting caught their attention. Both men looked over at the doors just in time to see Hop and Victor barge in, eager to escape the hands of flustered Macro Cosmos security staff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, let go!” Hop shooed away a hand on his shoulder before running up to his brother. “Lee! We’ve been looking all over for you! What’s the point of getting a special reservation if you’re just gonna be late to them all the time?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon tried to stuff away the anger from his prior conversation, pulling on another plastered smile for his little brother. He noticed that Victor stayed back, giving harsh glances to any of the employees that got too close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um, right. Sorry about that! The chairman and I just happened to be having a conversation, and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You boys have made quite an impression,” Rose suddenly interjected. Victor shot a harsh glare at the man, but Rose hardly seemed to care. “This year’s semifinals couldn’t have been a bigger hit. I must voice my many congratulations to you especially, Victor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor remained silent. Even his small, everyday smile was nowhere to be found on his stone-cold face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Rose turned back to the brothers, “I believe that I have made you late for your dinner, Leon. Forgive me for that. Please, do go out and celebrate with your loved ones. I personally cannot wait to see what tomorrow’s finals will bring about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon looked away, hiding his rising grimace from his cheerful brother. With that, the champion accompanied the boys out of Rose Tower and out into the streets. Hop marched ahead, as always, ranting on and on about how they missed their dinner and he would now have to find another good restaurant with seats for them before it gets too late. Leon was surprised, however, that Victor hung back with him, his silence sounding a bit more bitter than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Leon decided to risk saying, “You… You were great out here, Victor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy didn’t bother to look up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just doing what you asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and… I’m thankful for that. Truly, I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more steps in silence. Leon takes a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I… also want to thank you for being such a good friend to Hop. He really does mean the world to me, and… I’m glad that you make him so much happier than I ever could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor glances over, but his eyes don’t stick. He shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even though I’m your enemy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Especially because you’re my enemy. You’re everything I’m not, and I’m thankful that Hop gets to have that in a person he really admires.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Everything you’re not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon looks off, adjusting his cap a little as he watches Hop march way ahead of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a good person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The youth loses his breath. Though he tries to hide it, Leon heard. Neither of them mention it - neither of them has the strength.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. MORE THAN A FEEEELIINNN'~~ (more than a feelin'~)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! Sorry for the late updates this week - it's the week before finals (affectionately called "Dead Week" where I live, lol), so I've been feverishly trying to finish final assignments before I have to start making progress in my final projects, uhggg... But I'll try and catch up on replying to new comments, too;;; But we're getting close to the end of Act 2!</p><p>So, here ya go! Thanks for reading, y'all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After everything he’s managed to overcome, it’s not too big of an assumption to say that Raihan doesn’t get bothered easily. He’s learned that things come and go, and even when it looks like the world is ending before one’s eyes, there’s always a way to make it through and move on. This idea has always been enough to get the dragon tamer through even the toughest times of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, knowing even that, he still couldn’t stop sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In theory, he’s been having a great time. He’s finally perfected his damn-near-guaranteed one-hit KO strategy with Goodra, he gets to pick whatever modeling gig he’s interested in due to the sheer amount of businesses fighting to get him to sponsor their latest product, and he’s finally obtained the shiny Goomy he’s been chasing for half a year. So… what’s the disconnect here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not that he’s ungrateful. Never once in his life has the great Raihan </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> let himself forget his good fortune. But as of late, there’s been something on his mind that he just can’t ignore, and it doesn’t seem to be leaving his thoughts anytime soon. So, one would just assume that he would just get up and deal with it, right? Well, normally he’d agree with that and get to work. But… well, the thing is, the solution to his problem would mean breaking one of his five rules of life. Particularly, Rule #5: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Have all the fun you want, but never fall in love</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well, he’s starting to think that he won’t be able to uphold that rule much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, it’s been a hot minute since the night the two of you hunted for Goomies back in the Lake of Outrage. Raihan had really been noticing this warmth to your words as of late, and the Goomy hunt just made that strange tug in his heart all the more apparent. Notice how I say ‘heart’ and not ‘stomach’. The stomach is where your primal urges reside, where you feel all that dark, curtling desire scream at you to steal what you desire and devour it whole. This was almost the place where Raihan was most familiar feeling these sorts of emotions. But lately, he’s noticed something familiar happening in the depths of his chest. Nothing dangerous happens, but he catches onto how with every beat of his heart when he’s around you, or even just thinking of you, it beats a little harder. If he wasn’t already familiar with this sudden pang, he would probably ask someone about it, or maybe do a quick internet search. But, unfortunately for him, he knew what this was. He had felt it once before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He most certainly was about to fall in love with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, early Friday morning, he came to the absolutely brilliant, genius, definitely-guaranteed-to-work decision to get over you as soon as humanly possible. The last thing he needed was some half-baked romance to distract him from his responsibilities and own life. It was still early, the wound still fresh, so he figured that if he just kept his distance and distracted himself, the feeling would fade away like color beneath the sunlight. Which explains why you didn’t see Raihan at the semifinals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he watched the semifinals online, finding himself pleasantly surprised with the results. Then, he wandered off to go find the pink Goomy, who he discovered was incredibly shy and also an expert at the game hide-and-seek. After spending two hours searching through his house for the shiny dragon-type, he figured that the shy beast would make an appearance later and he moved on. So, he fixed up lunch for himself - just some homemade </span>
  <em>
    <span>katsudon</span>
  </em>
  <span> with some curry on top - and later made more curry and rice for his pokemon. He figured that he needed a bit more distraction, though, and moved on to binging a TV show he’d been meaning to catch up on (even though he’s pissed because they killed the main villain in the first season and there’s like three more seasons so </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the actual fuck else happens</span>
  </em>
  <span>). Raihan is so distracted by the show that he fails to notice Flygon slowly but surely pulling off the once neatly placed cushions on the couch, waddling in to peel one off before disappearing down the hall. Eventually, though, Raihan </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> notice (mostly when Flygon tried to steal the cushion he was leaning against) and shooed the dragon-type away. At this point, the show was starting to get boring and his legs were aching from sitting down for so long. Ah, the joys of being tall - achy joints. So, he checks the time and sees that it's just late enough in the evening to consider going out. He gets himself ready, taking a quick shower and throwing on some of his designer going-out clothes, and eventually heads out into the night. Everyone knows him, everyone chats with him, everyone wants to dance with him - it’s a good time all around. About ten minutes to midnight, he finds himself in a steamy makeout session in the back and decides to take things over to her place. They leave, get to her place, fuck, then pass the fuck out in her bed that’s definitely less than comfortable for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he wakes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, here’s the sitch - the entire day, he had been fighting the thought of you in every conceivable way. It would work for a little while, then a picture of you smiling would flash so suddenly in his mind that he would actually have to take a minute to process what had just happened. So now that he was here, in the bed of someone he hardly even really looked at for the entire duration of the night, he’s come to a terrible, dreadful, awful, no-good conclusion that he really actually might have feelings for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit-fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Transition to the present. It’s Saturday, the day of the Champion Cup Finals - also the day where Raihan and you have to be in the same space for a majority of the day. And while he could probably try to avoid you like the plague, he knows that if you so much as </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him, he’s done for. This realization hits him so hard that he has to actually squat down in the shower so he can mentally deal with all that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m a grown ass man</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tugged the ends of his shower cap with a frown, water sliding elegantly down his majestic, toned muscles in all the best ways, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet here I am, getting flustered over one girl.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He groans, ignoring the echo of his voice against the tile of his bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whelp, he tried. Only one thing to do now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Die in a hole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were also quite bothered today. Not because you were having romance woes, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nah, you were mostly concerned about how the hell you were going to distract the champion of the region long enough for a child to interrogate an old lady who might know something about a likely government conspiracy that could completely alter the fate of Galarian pokemon battling forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Y’know, just girl stuff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You got yourself ready and headed out, already feeling your body swelling with nerves as you made your way to the stadium. If you thought the crowds were bad during the semifinals, you ain’t seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet. THE WHOLE FUCKING STREET WAS PACKED. People screaming, cheering, chanting, dancing - it was like Mardi Gras but for White people. And while the people were amped up and excited, you noticed that nothing particularly rowdy was going on. Despite the perfect opportunity for destruction and anarchy, everyone was just here for a good legal time. And that kind of was nice, in a weird way. It at least made moving through an endless crowd a bit less nerve-wracking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made it inside thanks to the help of one of the several security members that recognized you. You were escorted into the lobby and then shown the way to the Group 2 locker rooms, which was where you’d be entering from for all of your matches. Unfortunately, you already knew that Victor wouldn’t be in the same locker room as you, which would definitely make things a bit difficult. But thankfully, the two of you went over a battle plan late last night over the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Opal doesn’t participate in the Champion Cup,” you explained, “but from what I understand from previous seasons, she likes to watch from the league stands up top. Problem is, that’s also where Leon sits to spectate. You won’t be able to talk to her so long as he’s there. So wait until after my match to try and talk with her. I’ll try and hold him down for as long as I can, but you really may only end up having a few minutes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll try and keep it brief. I don’t want to risk you getting in trouble. So when I get an answer, I’ll send you a message so you know you can let him go. Can you keep your phone on you during your matches?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yup. Thankfully, this uniform has pretty reliable pockets. I’ll try and let you know if he gets away, too, so keep an eye out for that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perfect. Let’s do this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You affirmed that strategy one more time in your head as you reached out for the locker room doors. There’s totally no way this plan can go wrong, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bet you were expecting me to say ‘Wrong’ immediately after that, right? Lolol, nope, shit doesn’t hit the fan yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You open the door, and see that everyone else is already here: Milo, Raihan, and Piers. You head over to get a locker and pull out your clip of pokeballs to attach them to your gym shorts before stuffing your duffel bag into the locker. You turn around with the full intention of going to sit beside Piers (who seems to be napping on a bench, listening to music you can faintly hear from the total opposite side of the room), only to momentarily lock eyes with Raihan. He quickly looks away, trying to pretend like he was scrolling on his phone the whole time. You crack a curious smile and head over, sitting down next to him on the furthest benches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there, stranger,” you smile, catching his attention. “How’s life been with your precious rare Goomy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um…” he chuckles nervously, making you flick up an eyebrow. “Uh, it’s great. Yeah, he’s a total cutie, I’m sure…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure? As in, you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, haven’t really seen him in the past week. He’s gone and hid somewhere in my house and I have yet to find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no - he didn’t run away, did he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s still there - he eats the food I leave out and I keep finding slime everywhere. He’s just, uh, super shy right now, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay. I got worried there for a second. I would hate for you to lose something you’ve been looking everywhere for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but see the way Raihan slightly tenses up at that. He looks away, trying to laugh nonchalantly. He fails epically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, um, that’d be bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pause, peering in a little closer. Raihan shuffles a bit under your stare, seeming a bit… </span>
  <em>
    <span>nervous</span>
  </em>
  <span>? As in, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> Raihan - the super cool, super suave, super chill dragon tamer/historian/internet model - was feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>nervous</span>
  </em>
  <span>? That can’t be right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are, uh… you okay? You look a bit… Durantsy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan tries to give you an easy smile, but the moment he locks eyes with you, he’s immediately back to a stuttering mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? Oh, yeah, I’m perfect - I mean, I’m great. Good. Awesome. It’s, uh… Yup, we’re, uh… We’re doing great over here in Raihan Land. Totally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no, not falling for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously? Not even a little?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shake your head. He groans a bit. You watch with an amused expression as he glances around the room. Milo’s currently busy giving his Eldegloss a pep talk near the lockers, Piers is in his own little world, and the two of you are considerably far away from them, so… He ends up letting out a sigh and leans back a bit, propping himself up with his hands on the end of the bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess… I’ve just been a bit distracted lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I figured,” you let out a laugh, playfully tapping his shoulder. “You’ve been acting funny since you brought over that Vulpix.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gapes at you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh. I just didn’t wanna say anything because I didn’t wanna pry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan held back a frustrated curse to himself. Had this really been going on for so long? And had you seen through him even before he himself realized how he felt? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, sounds like her, alright. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His heart swelled a bit at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” you gently nudge his shoulder with your own, already feeling yourself relaxing entirely in his presence, “don’t worry about it. I’m not judging you - I just, you know, wanna make sure that everything’s okay with you. So… is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses before saying your name softly. You hum, showing your attentiveness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you…” he starts, obviously looking a bit embarrassed. “... Have you ever been in love before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blink. This wasn’t what you were expecting. To be honest, that was kind of an interesting thing to hear from someone like Raihan. All his confidence and flirtatious attitude… definitely strange to see this 180 right now. From Piers it was already weird enough, but now seeing all this shyness from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Huh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Couple times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, and is silent for such a long time that you debate on asking more about it. However, you don’t, because he finally lets out a soft chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. You probably think I’m such a kid, acting like this. It’s just, well, stuff like this has been on my mind lately, and, well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you in love with someone?” you hesitantly ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tenses up a little more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Well, to be perfectly honest… I don’t know. I mean, I’ve only ever felt like this once before, and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grimace on his face filled in the blanks for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t go well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Things were great for a while, and then… it just all went down the drain. I should’ve seen the warning signs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gently pat his knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. Stuff like that happens sometimes. We make mistakes, and then we move on. That shouldn’t deter you from trying again.” He manages to look you in the eyes. “You’re an awesome person, Raihan. You’re funny, you’re adventurous, you’re strong - I’m sure anyone would be ecstatic to have you in their life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the way he’s staring at you, you begin to wonder what exactly is going on. A soft silence had since fallen, and you found that you couldn’t quite part from the intensity in his deep blue eyes. Strange, how blue they were. But they were the most honest eyes you’d probably ever seen - glimmering and swirling with tidal waves of electrifying emotions that seeped into your soul. For a moment, you wondered if you were seeing things. All you could find in his silent look was brimming adoration, seeming so mystical and enticing there in the heat of his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This… He… Wait a second - hold on wait shit what do I</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always told myself,” his easy smile is back on, a hand reaching over to take your own, “that I’d never take love seriously ever again. It’s been a rule of mine for years, and I never break my rules. Well… I think… I might want to make an exception, just this once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit shit shit shit</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives your hand a warm squeeze. You look down for a beat, realize just how small you look beside him. But it isn’t frightening - it’s secure. Warm. Protected.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tell him about Piers tell him about Piers FUCKING TELL HIM ABOUT PIERS</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that,” he beams with a humble sort of confidence, “I’d really like to try this with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yup. There it is. Oof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hundred thousand words are running circles through your mind, but you’re hardly processing any of them. Dial-up sounds fill your cranium, leaving you staring blankly at the man who just basically expressed having feelings for you. This man - this gorgeous, considerate, experienced, handsome, intelligent, sexy fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole-grain-goodness man</span>
  </em>
  <span> - has just asked if you wanted to be with him. In a romantic way. Like, more than friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, funny, none of that information seems to be processing very well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, you remember yourself and manage to pull your dumbass out of your stupor in time to voice your situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” you swallow, trying to gather some of that confidence again. “...I’m really flattered. And it’s not like I don’t like you or anything…” Oh, geez, there it is - that sad, disappointed smile is working its way on his face. “B-but it’s not you! It’s just… I’m kinda still going through a bunch of stuff, and, well…” You raise a hand up to hide your blush a bit. “... Somebody </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> has kinda already, um, talked to me about this stuff, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” he nods, still looking upset. “You should be able to look for your own happiness, too. I… I won’t bother you anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no - you’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> bothered me. I just wanted to let you know the situation so I didn’t screw everything up and hurt you. You see…” You feel bad saying it, but you do, anyways. “... Well, I haven’t really made a decision yet. I don’t really know how I feel about either of you. So…” You tilt your head, trying to catch his eyes with your own. “... Please don’t give up until then. Being in love is always an amazing feeling, and even when it brings you heartbreak, it’s important to remember how it feels to have such powerful emotions. It’s like… really being alive. And I want both of you to feel those things without fear of me being upset with you or what-have-you. So, uh… yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan is clearly surprised by your words. You’re not surprised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He probably thinks I’m just hungry for the attention. That’s not what I meant so please don’t think that I’m just a </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he grins. “I really respect you, having the courage to say all that. I know the league is a waking nightmare, and a lot of people are giving you grief, so just know that if you need anything - no matter what happens between us - I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> be there to help you. Dragons are very good at protecting their beautiful princesses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggle at that, feeling relief wash through you like waves on the shore. You open your mouth to make a joke when you notice Raihan lift your hand up by the ends of your fingers. A feverish blush runs across your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess I’ll have a new rival, then,” he smirks down at you. “But just so you know, I’m even better at romance than I am on the battlefield. If it means I have a chance at having you, then this is a fight I’m not going to lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You watch dumbly while Raihan presses an all-too-chaste kiss onto your hand. It’s remarkably gentle - featherlight and tender, but with all the warmth of a firm press - and leaves you feeling entirely too flustered to breath. He looks up, passing you a wink, before pushing himself up to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he stretches his limbs, his fingertips just grazing the ceiling up above. “I’m all hyped up now! Who am I fighting first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man steps over the bench to check the brackets just as a MC employee peeks through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Group 2,” the employee called out, catching everyone’s attention, “the first match of the day is gonna be between Gym Leader Piers and Gym Leader [Y/n]. Please head over to your designated side in about ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You turned your head to catch Piers, who was just getting up and tugging off his headphones. He attaches his own magnetic pokeball clip to his belt and slugs over towards you, giving a small wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t even know you were here,” he pushes some hair from his face. “Ready to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A determined smile works its way onto your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Is... Is this Allowed? iS tHiS aLlOwEd?!?!?!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh hey! Finals are over and my asshole no longer exists bc it was reamed by Big Daddy Academia!</p><p>Anyway, here's Ch31! Also known as: "What the Actual Fuck is Going On???!!"</p><p>(also I'll be catching up on comments tomorrow bc my brain is fried sgjdhgfjhgjfh don't be afraid to comment tho pls I Lub themmmm)</p><p> </p><p>That being said: Remember how this fic is tagged with "Eventual Smut"?</p><p>;))))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Remember earlier in the last chapter when I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>“There’s totally no way this plan can go wrong?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the part where everything goes wrong. Like, really wrong. Like Fifty Shades of Totally Fucked Up. Saddle up, motherfuckers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You and Piers were walking down the hall, making your way to the sides you were meant to appear from when he suddenly stopped you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you plannin’ to Dynamax?” he kept his voice low, in a hush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really likin’ the idea of fightin’ you like that. When I saw your match with Marnie, you were stumblin’ off in a real state. I don’t want to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s right and you know it, but there really is no choice. If you don’t Dynamax, not only will you be in hot water with the higher-ups, but you also won’t be able to have the chance of stealing Leon away for a distraction. You hate how it makes Piers so obviously uncomfortable, but it’s not exactly fun for you, either. You’ll explain it to him later. If you manage to live that long, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” you reach down and squeeze his hand. “I don’t remember what happens when I do it, so don’t hesitate to give it your all out there. I’ll hurt for a while, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t entirely look convinced. But thankfully, it seems as though he’s too distracted by the determined smile you’re giving him, judging by the rising blush on his pale cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Okay. But don’t do nothin’ stupid today, ya hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a bold-ass fucking lie </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>turns out to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you part ways, him heading to the home-side of the stadium while you make your way down the long hallway to the visitor-side. Already, you can hear the rumbling of the stands from outside, thousands of people screaming and cheering for whatever match was going on first. You think it was against Nessa and Victor. You prayed that the boy would be okay, and that he would have enough time to talk with Opal. A welt of anxiety bubbled in your gut, forcing a trembling in your knees as you approached the light at the end of the tunnel. Hardly metaphorical, you noted. No, this wasn’t the end of your struggles - you were just barely jumping into the maw of the dragon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stepped into the light of day, hit with a million sensations at once. First, the blinding light of the sun beaming down on you. Then, the screams of adoring fans. The slight chill in the air. Your rising pulse. All these things against you, you managed a dazzling smile, hands raised to greet the stands. Just because you didn’t care for crowds doesn’t mean you don’t know how to work them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other side of the field, you saw Piers appear, rubbing his shoulder as he made his way to the center of the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“For the second match of the day,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the announcer bellowed out from the box up top, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“we have an interesting battle ahead of us! Over on the visitor-side, we have Gym Leader [Y/n], the fire-type specialist representing the passionate flames of Motostoke! She’s made quite the impression on countless gym challengers in her debut season as gym leader, and most certainly has turned up the heat when it comes to being a major roadblock for challengers. Once she Dynamaxes, you’re as good as ash! And on the home-side, we have Gym Leader Piers, the dark-type specialist representing the rebellious shadows of Spikemuth! He doesn’t need Dynamx to prove to the crowd that he’s a force to be trifled with, though there is speculation that the rockstar plans to end his nine-year career as gym leader in favor of passing down the mantle to his little sister after her stunning performance in yesterday’s semifinals. Don’t let his lyrics get to your head, or else you won’t have time to see that he’s already got you beat! Let’s hear it!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You could see Piers groaning, obviously debating on whether or not to flip off the announcer. The two of you meet in the middle to shake hands and rile up the crowd with some good old fashion smack-talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should probably warn you,” he shrugs, his voice dancing into the air through his headset, “I don’t do encores. Especially not now. So, you’d better give me a match that I can really jam out to, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Team Yell is losing their fucking minds out there. You’re sure that at some point, you hear someone scream for Piers to be the father of their children. Looking at him now, you can’t blame them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need a second chance to burn you to the ground,” you shrug, a rising grin added for taste. Talking shit is way more fun when you both know you don’t mean it. “But you might wanna pay close attention to this beat. You’ll be surprised to find that I play at a tempo that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> won’t keep up with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A spark of excitement streaked across his eyes, the temperature around the two of you raising a few degrees as the crowd screamed in anticipation. For the briefest of moments, you could have sworn you saw blazing desire in his eyes. For the first time in years, you were grateful that you endured four long years of band camp; he definitely wasn’t expecting to get a taste of his own smack-talk. The two of you walked to your appropriate sides of the field, and the battle began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was exactly the kind of intensity you had been missing. Two experienced trainers, going all out against each other with no holds barred, nothing but skill and strategy to hold you back. Since you were a fire-type specialist and he was a dark-type specialist, there was no type advantage to make the battle predictable. No, much to your pleasure, it was just about who was better, plain and simple. And that made the flames inside of you rise up a bit stronger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the second time this week, you’re hit with the intense reminder that Piers is </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> a damn good pokemon trainer. For some reason, it’s easy to forget that with his disinterest in talking about it more than he had to. But the way he commanded the field, rallied the crowd on his side with all his words and mannerisms, it all flowed so brilliantly together into a truly exciting battle. Sure, battling against the kids was nice, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>… This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhilarating</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Suddenly, you were back in Hoenn, going head to head against some of the best trainers in the region at the ripe age of ten-years-old. It was no surprise that you got amped up even more with every move the two of you made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing to ruin it all, however, was the impending realization that you would have to Dynamax </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> soon. While you had managed to hold your own longer than you thought you would, Piers was clearly going to win. His Stuntank was still going strong, while your Chandelure was starting to sway a bit concerningly in the air. The dark-type moves she had been taking definitely weren’t sitting well with her partial ghost-type body. She wouldn’t hold out much longer at this rate. Your hand grazed Arcanine’s pokeball, mentally getting yourself ready for the impending situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t nothin’ dodging </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>attack,” Piers shouted, throwing an arm out towards your Chandelure. “Stuntank, rough ‘em up with a Sucker Punch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon raced towards Chandelure, ready to land a finishing blow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hit it back with a Shadow Ball!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chandelure launched her attack just as Stuntank took to the air, sending the foul-smelling pokemon to the ground. In the process, the ghost-fire-type pokemon teetered back, struggling to gather her bearings as Piers let out a dark chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can keep battin’ away my dark-type moves all you want, but it ain’t gonna last - Stuntank, hit ‘em one more time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You opened your mouth to call out a direction, only to see Stuntank land a powerful punch against Chandelure. Your little pokemon went flying sideways, rolling against the ground before eventually coming to a halt. It’s dazed expression was enough for you to know that she was down for the count. The crowd cheered wildly as you recalled your pokemon. You and Piers locked eyes from across the field, instantly knowing what needed to happen next. The crowd’s cheering turned to chanting, a surprisingly well-orchestrated round filling up the air as you pulled out Arcanine’s ball. Your eyes looked up to Piers, apprehension filling your core. You didn’t want to do this. Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arceus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you really didn’t want to do this. But even all the way from across the field, you could see him mouthing something to you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please be safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It gives you just enough courage to tap your Vmax band, and watch as the energy begins to build inside of you. The coming storm manifests in slow motion up above your heads as red electricity dances around your body. You feel the ball in your hands growing in pulses, and raise it up into the air. Piers and his Stuntank get into a battle-ready stance. You throw the ball, and everything cuts to black.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>… A loud, jarring ringing noise is the first thing you consciously notice. Though it doesn’t occur to you to try and move to escape its sound, you do feel a watery moan slip through your throat. With just that small vocalization, you slowly start to acknowledge other senses. You have a throat, which rumbled when you moaned. That throat leads up to your mouth and lips, which are remarkably dry and sore, like you’d just spend an eternity screaming into the void. Around your lips, though, is moisture; sweat, perhaps, trickling down your face and along your neck. The sweat down your neck falls further, disappearing underneath the fabric of your soaking wet shirt. It’s a little difficult to breathe in that shirt, with the restriction you feel around your chest. But it becomes apparent that this restriction feels just a bit too tight to be just from a shirt. Like something’s wrapped around you. Something’s holding you. As quick as you realize that, the sensation is gone, replaced with the feeling of being placed upon what you think is a cot, judging from the way you sink in a bit. Something warm brushes the sweat from your forehead, eventually sliding down almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> slowly down your flushed cheek. It’s a hand, you figure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, your brain starts putting the pieces together. You were just out on the field, ready to Dynamax Arcanine in your match against Piers, and now you were here, in serious pain and no idea where you were. The ringing sound is fading away, now, replaced by the distance voices of conversation. You recognized the voices, but your brain was having trouble putting names on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...ly worth ...sk…. want </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody </span>
  </em>
  <span>walking… ese doors, understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A further, more nervous voice picks up from the end of the room. It’s too distant for your throbbing mind to comprehend. You think you hear a door shut, and a sigh rings through the air. That warm hand finds its way back onto your forehead, gently brushing back the hair that was stuck to your face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never fail to surprise me,” the voice suddenly dipped low, warm breath burning against your cheek. “No matter how many times you get burned, you just keep shoving your hands back into the flames. Is this the kind of person you really are? Or are you trying to prove something?” The hand is cupping your other cheek, now, thumb gently caressing it. Your mind is making steps towards gaining full functionality, and leads to an increasing dread with every second longer you spend in this moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something… isn’t right, here. This isn’t right.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Are you so bent on proving me wrong that you don’t realize what you’re doing to me?” The voice is silent for a moment. Eventually, they just click their tongue, and the warmth they provided disappears from your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it clicks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes shoot open, meeting the white ceiling as you suddenly gasp for air. You shove yourself up, hand clutching your chest harder with every pain-filled breath you fought for. Just before the far door, Leon turns around, eyes wide with surprise. He makes his way back over to you, notably keeping his hands to his sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awake,” his voice was blank. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>… do you think I’m feeling?” you hiss out, still feeling a bit discombobulated. He doesn’t react to your harshness, instead settling for grabbing what you assume to be a thermometer and offering it to you. You almost take it when you feel the weight of your phone in your pocket. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The plan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Using all your talent as a professional asshole, you turn your nose at it, pouting childishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just taking your temperature,” he frowns, turning the small device around before your eyes, “so just relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit being stubborn!” he growls, attempting to shove the end of it into your mouth. You dodge, trying to gain enough functionality in your trembling hands to bat him away. You can see the rising frustration burning through his face, and you can’t help but smirk a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you tilt your head innocently. “Is the champion mad because he isn’t getting what he wants? Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boohoo</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He growls. You almost think to celebrate a small victory when he suddenly grabs your jaw and forces the thermometer into your mouth, digging the prick underneath your tongue with no regard for the mild pain it gave you. All you could do was sit there, blinking in surprise. You didn’t even want to risk looking at his infuriated face. It definitely wouldn’t help your racing heartbeat, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a couple of seconds, the device makes a small beeping noise. Leon pulls it from your mouth and checks the number with furrowed brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your temperature seems to be returning to normal,” he discarded the device. “But you should still wait in here a little while longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets up to leave and you panic. It’s definitely too early for him to be leaving, and you haven’t felt a text from Victor. So you poke at the flames a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” you snap, crossing your arms on the cot. “I feel fine. Hell, I could probably go out there and fight again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rubs his temple before turning back to you in a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No you can’t. It was bad enough during the gym challenge with all those matches - the doctors say that your body is going to react worse and worse with every attempt at Vivamax. You were out with a 110 fever and convulsions - your heart could have stopped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Again, fake confidence takes over. “You’re acting like you give a rat’s ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tenses up at that, glaring down at you like no tomorrow. Hints of his words from earlier flutter up in the back of your mind, but you ignore them. You can’t risk getting flustered at something you might have misunderstood entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe it or not, I actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>care about what happens to you, so stop -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Because you’re worried that if I die under your </span>
  <em>
    <span>careful watch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it will spell the ultimate end of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span> reign as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>beloved</span>
  </em>
  <span> champion?” You laugh, kicking your legs over the end of the cot, ignoring the trembling of your legs as you attempt to stand. Leon stands still, just a few feet away. You know it’s a ticking time bomb, this man, but you need to milk every last second. So you stir the flames some more. “If you want me to believe that you actually care about me, you’re doing a lousy job. You may look amazing and perfect on the outside…” you step right up to him, poking a hand on his chest as he stares down at you. “... but you’re all sorts of rotten right where it matters. Right. About. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” You give him one firm shove against his chest. He doesn’t budge, but who cares. In his boiling silence, you feel a buzz from your pocket and pause to check your phone. A single text from Victor: ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gold band - you were right</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. You smile to yourself and toss the phone back onto the cot, ready to sink back into its hold when Leon suddenly chuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you admit it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look over at him, brows knitted together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You find me attractive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We-well…” you can’t hide the warmth on your cheeks, so you look away instead. “... I mean… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You try to step back to the cot when you feel him grasp your wrist, his grip so tight it nearly pulls a gasp out of you. Your eyes shot up to his, only to see a dark expression on his face. His jaw is tense, his breathing is hauntingly even - oh dear, you might’ve gone a bit too far. Leon was right; all your poking had these flames burning out of control in the confines of his golden eyes and now all you could feel was the heat of the impending burns. You attempt to pull back when he tugs you to the right, away from the cot and towards a side door you didn’t notice before. He threw it open, pulled you inside, and shut the door harshly behind him. Even in the near complete darkness, you could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> his stare searching for you, sending shivers all throughout your body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your hands reached out for something - anything - to give you some stability. You kick what perhaps was a box, and immediately you feel Leon wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you tight into his chest. A squeak slips out of you as he pulls you around; your arms reach outwards and keep you from slamming face-first into what feels like the door. Your elbows shake, using all of their combined strength to give you space between your body and the door as you feel the man press himself against your back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It begins to dawn on you that there’s absolutely no leaving this situation. Not because you physically can’t, oh no - with a well-powered kick, you’re sure that you could slip out the door and out of his hold. And yet you don’t. Not when his hands are squeezing the meat of your hips, his chest against your back, his breath hitting your ear. There’s an agony there in his touch that bruises and bite marks could never create. You hate how you unconsciously push into his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much longer,” he purrs into your ear, careful to mind his volume, “are we going to keep playing this game of cat and mouse? Because if you can’t already tell…. I’m getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> impatient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>champ</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you manage to hiss back. The previous exhaustion in your body has seemingly been numbed out by the red hot passion in your stomach. You just wish you knew if it was passionate hatred or… something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled himself a little closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t play dumb - you know what I’m after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pause for a moment to mull over your words. His breath brushes against your ear, and you can just barely feel the warmth of his lips glide across the shell. He’s definitely making it hard to think, right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m getting an idea.” You think you feel him smirk against you, only for you to keep talking. “Even with all your power and authority, you still are fixated on getting what you want for yourself. You’re bored with getting hand-outs - you want a challenge. That’s why you won’t ask the chairman about my inability to Dynamax. And…” You pray your voice won’t fail you. “…and that’s why you seem bent on seduction rather than force. Am I wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s silent for a moment. A part of you wonders if you made too big of an assumption in that last sentence, but with all that’s going on at the moment, you remind yourself that it’s a reasonable probability. Deep down, you know his clever touches and suggestive phrasing is just a means to get you wrapped around his little finger like everyone else in the crowd. And yet, that cold idea doesn’t seem to even out the flames of his actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems you have me all figured out,” his voice pricks your ear. “You’ve managed to endure this long even after all my best attacks - I have to say, I’m a bit impressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel his hands slowly begin to slide across your waist, disappearing under the fabric of your gym uniform. He presses his palms gently over your lower stomach, teasing the flames beneath, and holds you a little closer. A soft kiss is pressed against the back of your ear before evolving into progressively firmer, needier presses down your neck. With all the willpower you have in you, you press your lips together in an attempt to keep quiet. You hope that this door is thick enough to at least muffle your sharp breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re managing well enough, eager to prove that you can withstand whatever it is he wants to throw at you. Even when you feel his tongue press into a sensitive throb along your neck, you don’t budge. This seems to amuse him. You start to think of some witty retort when you start to feel one of his hands sinking awfully low down your front. It’s a painfully slow descent, one that you have to shut your eyes to avoid watching. His fingers pull at the elastic of your shorts. You don’t move. A little deeper, they graze the outline of your panties. You let out a bit of a shaky breath of frustration, but otherwise remain still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... For fuck’s sake, Leon, quit being dramatic and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>do it already</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles darkly into your shoulder as he finally goes all in, seemingly intrigued by the slight tremble in your legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After everything you’ve seen here,” his voice is barely audible from the fabric of your shoulder. “You’re still here. Is there something </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> after, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t trust your mouth with any more words. Not with the way his fingers seem to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what they’re doing to you. You settle with silence, for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say that I’m rotten all you want. At the end of the day, you’re still here. Stay too long and you’ll end up rotten just like me. Where else will you go, I wonder, other than right here with me, just like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your body is coming undone right in front of him, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. It’s like he’s completely taken control of your every movement, especially now that your hips seem bent on getting as much pleasure out of his ministrations as physically possible. He suddenly presses a finger firmly against your heat, making you gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awfully quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You dare to glance over at him. A terrible smirk waits for you, his chin hovering above your shoulder with that wild hair framing his much-too handsome face. What you wouldn’t give to rip it all to shreds, right now. Yeah, there’s no way you can risk opening your mouth with that face, right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you moan for me,” he presses another firm kiss onto your neck, “I’ll consider finishing you off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>temptation</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of you desperately wants to see if you can just wait out the clock, keep him talking just so you can finally cum and be on your merry way. But you’re still so far away and there’s no way you very well can just </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You almost give in. You almost give him what he asks for. But because you’re an asshole and he’s an asshole, desperation hardly matters. You stare him down and hope that he can sense your vitriolic curses through your eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns at that. Definitely not what you were expecting, but not exactly the most unexpected thing, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to his words, he stops, pulling his devious hand from your bottoms and sets you free. Immediately you gasp at the lack of pressure, tumbling into the door in front of you. He’s silent, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at him. You’d rather not risk having second thoughts when he’s still in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People are wondering about you,” he sighed, sounding audibly frustrated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “So do what you need and rest for a little while longer before heading outside. ADon’t take too long, or I’ll deal with you, myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing the weight of those words, you don’t need to ask what he means. You drag yourself away from the door, careful to avoid his constant stare. He grabs the door handle once you slump against a wall, watching you slide down to the ground in a huff. A few heavy breaths pass before he eventually tugs the door open and leaves. His footsteps stomp away, eventually disappearing entirely with the opening and closing of another door, before leaving you in a harsh, hot silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s shameful, the state this man has left you in. Because here you are, sitting on the ground in some random-ass broom closet, hornier than you’ve literally ever been in your entire existence, with one hand in your pants and the other covering your mouth. A part of you wonders if you should be worried about someone coming in. The other part of you doesn’t really give a shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You really wish that Leon would just up and say exactly what it is he’s after, here, because it’s starting to actually drive you insane. His curious motives, his suspicious words, his calculated movements - any more of this and you’re sure that even a cockroach like yourself won’t be able to hold on. Just like the move Endure, your resilience gets weaker and weaker with every use. One of these days, he’ll beat you. You can only hope that you land a finishing move before that day arrives.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Terrible Answers to Terrible Questions, Most of Which Being Entirely Unprompted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hey, things are looking pretty good today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, not for you - you’re still having an existential crisis in the infirmary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, I’m talking about Raihan, who’s currently beaming with excitement as he checks the match line-up sheet. While the semifinals ran on a round robin set-up, the Champion Cup Finals were based on elimination matches. So, if you lost a battle, you were out of the competition (kinda like the gym challenge itself). Raihan, being the powerhouse that he was, had just finished his match with Piers. A stunning battle, that one was! While Piers could be a temperamental buzzkill most days, battles against him were always guaranteed to be spectacular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was something a little different about the dark-type specialist this time around. Or, just lately, in general. When Raihan saw him just before the battle, Piers seemed a curious combination of nervous and excited. Normally, he’d just put it down to performance anxiety, only for Raihan to remember that Piers doesn’t get performance anxiety. The guy’s been performing in front of crowds for half of his life and yet has never looked so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>lively</span>
  </em>
  <span>? The rockstar actually had some color to his face, for once, a hopeful glint reflecting in his normally bored blue eyes. Raihan noticed that Piers was even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> amped up on the field than usual. Maybe because this might be his final match as gym leader? Maybe. But being the curious man he is, Raihan figures that he’d find the reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, not right now. Because right now, according to the chart, he’s about to go up against the greatest threat to Leon’s throne - Victor. If the kid managed to beat the great Raihan, of course. The man chuckled to himself before heading out to the pitch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leon left the infirmary, hardly paying much attention to the two MC security guards that stood guard of the doorway. He brushed past them, heading down the empty hall as the sounds of the last battle began to shake the building from the outside. The man turned at the end of the hall before eventually slumping against the wall, pressing a hand over his mouth. With no-one around to see him, he let himself slide down the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What did he do?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> did he </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had always been so good about his emotions, keeping them locked away with an unbreakable lock and key in the confines of his chest. And yet it was starting to become apparent to him that you were able to pull only the darkest thoughts out of him, hurting yourself in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon was so confident that he hated you just as much as you hated him, and yet with every encounter he has with you, he can’t help but risk wanting just a little more of you. A look that lasts a moment too long, a touch that burns a bit too warm, a phrase that tastes much too hot. He certainly is anything but desperate - he could go outside right now and find literally anybody else he wanted. And yet all he could think about was wanting </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How bothersome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another rumble from the crowd outside. He looked around the halls - thankfully, they were completely empty. However, he still thought to pick himself back up, trying to gather some sort of decency left in his miserable husk of a body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t because you hated him. No, definitely not because you hated him - thousands of people voiced their dreams of his downfall everyday and he could care less. But he found himself constantly looking into your eyes despite this, searching for any possible hint of positive feelings towards him inside of you. The day that you, him, and Raihan had gone to lunch together haunted the back of his mind for weeks, now - you, mostly. So eager to please, so eager to smile - things had been easier back then before he had to ruin all of it. You were so beautiful when you were smiling, but the champion supposed that you were just as desirable when you were angry, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly began again down the hall, pulling his cap on a little lower over his face. Maybe you were right; he really couldn’t take rejection. Because even after all these years of expressing and respecting boundaries, he lost control in the heat of his feelings. He could have hurt you. A part of him almost did, but even a waste of flesh like him wouldn’t think to do something like that, right? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No point in crying over spilled milk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he sighed, giving his cheeks a little slap, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what’s done is done. Get your head in the game, Leon.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The man turned down the hall, catching sight of the brilliant light at the end of the pitch. Several MC workers sprinkled around caught sight of him, one daring to approach the champion when he continued to stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much longer until the final match?” Leon asked, pushing away the previous grievings into the depths of his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The employee checked her tablet, which no doubt displayed the technical details of the livestream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both Raihan and Victor are down to their third pokemon, sir,” she nodded to herself, “so it should be about five more minutes before the start of the final intermission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The champion nodded, turning around and making his way towards the locker rooms. This would no doubt be one of the toughest battles he would be going through in his time of defending his title. He would need every ounce of focus in order to win. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a part of him couldn't help but wonder: was this crown something he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Defeats were never fun, but at least the dragon tamer took them in stride. It happened much too often that trainers would lose sight of the wonders of battling and forget about basic sportsmanship. And while he would have his little pity party with a post-defeat selfie, he never thought about making a fuss over something as trivial as a loss. You had to lose a few times to finally earn a win, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he exited the field, pausing every so often for a selfie and eventually made his way up into the stands. A part of him was still all jittery with excitement from his match with Victor; in only a week’s time, the kid had grown perhaps three times as strong since their last match. Leon would definitely have his work cut out for him here in a few. Raihan meandered through the halls, hardly needing an escort to help him navigate anymore. He eventually found himself under the light of the sun once more. The dragon tamer made his way into the stands, high-fiving some excited fans as he made his way to the reserved league seating. All the other gym leaders were there, focused on their phones or conversations amongst one another; Raihan, however, honed in on Piers, who naturally sat away from everyone else with his legs kicked up on the seat in front of him. The man took a seat next to him and took a surprise selfie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smile~!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flash suddenly caught Piers’ attention, earning the dragon tamer a punch in the gut. It hardly phased him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Piers growled. Raihan chuckled a bit, tucking away his Rotomphone when Piers threatened another jab. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, I surrender. Still quite the ray of sunshine, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sod off,” the man huffed, pulling his lanky legs down in an effort to lean away from the pesky dragon tamer. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Which reminds me…” Raihan leaned in, earning an irritated grimace from the punk. “I couldn’t help but notice a little bounce in your step all day. Don’t tell me you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> eager to leave the professional battling scene?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers shoved him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course I’m not!” When Raihan leaned in again, Piers scrambled out another answer. “I’ve been meanin’ to give Marnie the gym since the beginnin’. It’s better off in her hands, so quit actin’ like this is a bad thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just miss our battles, is all. We never did get to challenge each other without the use of battle enhancers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you ever find yourself in Spikemuth, then I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess</span>
  </em>
  <span> we could -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooo~, you’re inviting me to your place? Took you long enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cue another painful jab from the punk’s elbow. That one actually kind of hurt, but it hardly bothered Raihan. This happened enough to where he was used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just kidding!” Raihan beamed. “But seriously, what’s the deal? You actually look alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers thought to punch the man in the face this time, but ended up just crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. Raihan was right, after all; the man </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> livelier than normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Just movin’ to a new point in my life, I guess. After this, I’ll be able to focus on my music, and that’ll be great. And I won’t hafta worry about dealing with the higher ups anymore. It’ll be the first time in years that I’ll be free to do whatever the hell I want without people naggin’ me all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like that’s ever stopped you before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers shrugged again, fighting the urge to smirk at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’pose so… But with me retirin’, I can finally think about gettin’ things I couldn’t have before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan flicked up an eyebrow at that. Oddly vague for someone like Piers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much to Raihan’s surprise, Piers shrugged again, a distant look in his eyes as he stared out into the field. Even stranger, it looked as if the man was wearing a faint smile. Despite the musician remaining silent, Raihan had the answer he needed. He knew that kind of look anywhere. He gave Piers a sudden pat on the bat, earning another harsh glare as he congratulated the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eeyyy, look at you, mate! Finally find yourself a hot box a’ rocks down in the depths of Spikemuth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers brushed away his fringe, setting it back in place after it went all over the place from Raihan’s jeering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorta</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ladies and gentlemen</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the voice of the announcer picked up, earning eager screams from the crowd. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Now is the time - the moment you’ve all been waiting for. For the first time in three years, a gym challenger has finally progressed far enough to come face-to-face with the champion himself. Standing on the visitor-side of the arena is none other than the silent menace, Challenger 39 - Victor!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wild cheers from the crowd, countless voices chanting out Victor’s number as he enters the field. But something is amiss with him, somehow. His normal unassuming grin is nowhere to be found, now. He walks forward with an air of purpose to his step, a foreboding grimace on his young face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“And representing the hopes and dreams of the entire Galar region, on the home-side of the field, comes the most iconic and beloved champion in all 115 years of the Galar Gym Challenge - the Unbeatable Champion himself, Leon!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Out comes Leon, in his flowing cape and everything, ready to give waves to the crowd with a dazzling smile. But there’s a crack in the mask that few notice; sweat already pricks his brow, and there’s just the slightest trembling in his fingers. Hardly even noticeable, even during his jumbotron close-up. The two met at the center of the field, exchanging the pre-battle conversation as per tradition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s nervous,” Raihan exhaled, leaning forward as if he weren’t seeing things clearly. “He’s actually, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nervous</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course he is,” Piers scoffed. “Victor’s no joke. Kid’s the single-greatest threat the league’s ever seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan nodded, passing a quick nudge against the dark-type specialist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got a point. I have half the mind to ask if you and [Y/n] are giving him lessons in how to be a pain in the league’s ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly tensed up, looking off to the side. While his face was hidden, Raihan noted the rising redness in the man’s neck, contrasting intensely against the cold metal of his choker. At first, he figured that it was just from the heat of the outside world. But it wasn’t there moments before, so...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan furrowed his brows, his mind putting things together in slow motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talking about wanting to get something he’d been wanting, that distant look in his eyes, the hopeful smile - the man was definitely in love with someone. And, when Raihan had mentioned you, suddenly Piers became notably bashful, the last emotion anyone would ever expect to see on someone like Piers. Which could only mean…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers,” Raihan said slowly, brows knitted together. “Are you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of the jumbotrons on either side of the field suddenly kicked up with interference, catching everyone’s attention. Piers and Raihan felt their hearts collectively sink when Chairman Rose’s face appeared before the entire stadium. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello there, Leon and Victor, as well as all of Galar. I just thought to let you know a few things -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden rumble into the sky sparked some more interference. Everyone saw dark, haunting storm clouds begin to form around the sky, eliminating all traces of the sun. A few gym leaders jumped to their feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“- my duty to show the world the brilliant destiny of Galar that I’ve always seen in my dreams. Of course, I couldn’t trust anyone but myself to see it through. As a result, I have brought about the Darkest Day.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A volt of red electricity shot into the ground, sending both Leon and Victor tumbling backwards. The audience screamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“All for the sake of Galar, of course!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the chairman wore an innocent smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Though, there is one little problem. It would appear as though Eternatus’s energy has overridden all our technology, and all attempts at quelling the creature has failed on our part. But things might have gone easier if you, Champion Leon, hadn’t been so bold as to defy me. The longer you let Eternatus run rampant, the more blood will be on your hands.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A distant roar shook the stadium. Lights flickered, phones beeped and spasmed in peoples’ pockets, panic impending. But nobody could move, eyes forced onto the screens before them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry it’s come to this. But it was you who forced my hand, Leon. You refused to listen!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The jumbotrons quickly failed, and the world around them was suddenly plunged into an almost impossible darkness. Screams filled the air, thousands of panicking citizens stumbling over each other in a feverish attempt to escape the darkness. Raihan and Piers jumped to their feet, looking all around in hopes of gathering their bearings. The darkness wasn’t completely opaque, thankfully, but it definitely would make evacuation significantly more difficult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to get everyone out of here!” they heard Nessa scream out. The gym leaders all agreed, and looked to each other to come up with a plan to control the crowd during what seemed to be the end of the world.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Hello Darkness, My Old Friend~</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If anyone was going to be able to navigate everyone through the darkness, it would be none other than the dark-type gym leader himself. After spending years in dim rooms and shady alleys, he had a pretty good sense of direction even when his eyes were useless. So the fact that he could see just a little bit ahead of him gave him enough confidence to take the initiative, shouting directions and ideas towards the other gym leaders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Milo, Gordie - let your pokemon out and start makin’ a barrier from the ends of the stands ‘n into the lobby so we can start shufflin’ people outta here! Don’t let anyone past you - it’s too dangerous to be lost out here.” The two gym leaders nodded, immediately doing as they were told. “Nessa, Bea, I want you both to try ‘n keep the line movin’. People are gonna get hurt, so let’s minimize that as best we can.” They shared a knowing glance and hurried off. “Opal, see about gettin’ some fairy-type moves to shine a bit of light around here. Try ‘n help everyone see a little better.” The woman seemed ready to form a few words of opposition at listening to such a rebellious youngster, but eventually just ended up sighing and called out her Togekiss from where she sat. Finally, Piers turned towards Raihan, who stood patiently beside him. “And Raihan, how good are you and your pokemon in the dark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please - half my strategy is under blind conditions like these. It’s gonna take a little more than just a little overcast to stop me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While this was definitely more than ‘a little overcast’, Piers decided not to argue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you’re with me. There’s gotta at least a hundred employees trapped in total darkness - our pokemon’re gonna help us get ‘em out of there, safe ‘n sound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even in the dark, Raihan’s determined grin sparkled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the help of Flygon, the two men flew out of the stands, not wanting to add to the congestion that was the stairway. Below, thousands of petrified spectators huddled together, trying to listen to the calming words of both Nessa and Bea while they made slow progress towards the exits. At the top of the stands, the coos of Opal’s Togekiss rang out, the pokemon lighting up the stadium with the occasional Dazzling Gleam. The move was just enough to give about ten seconds of light for everyone, serving a second purpose of calming down the anxious crowd. Piers looked back for a moment, hair fluttering around him, and caught sight of the nightmare zone that was now the roof of Hammerlocke Stadium. The top of the structure was completely enveloped by the raging energy storm, and it seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Leon had flown in there not too long ago, and things weren’t looking any better. For once, Piers actually felt a bit of concern for the man. Even the champion had to be a bit scared to face the unknown bringer of some fairytale calamity. Piers shook his head, making sure he held onto Raihan so he wouldn’t fall off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two landed on the field, where countless employees were still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. The two gym leaders started releasing their pokemon and filled them into the situation; Raihan with his Turtonator, Goodra, and Flygon, and Piers with his Obstagoon, Stuntank, Scrafty, and Malamar. Dark-type pokemon were all, thankfully, equipped with night-vision, and Raihan’s picks could manage well-enough in total darkness. Once they were ready, they all split up to gather up as many trapped people as they could and lead them out to a safer area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Victor! You around here somewhere, mate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor perked up at the sound of his best friend’s voice, spinning around wildly with his eyes wide in hopes of seeing something. Just faintly, he could make out Hop and Marnie rushing into the locker room, a little Morpeko leading the way. The fair-skinned boy couldn’t resist running into his friend’s arms, thankful that neither of them had gotten hurt in the chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-alright, yeah, we’re okay, haha,” Hop stammered, patting Victor’s back a bit. Victor could feel his friend heat up, and a small smile fell onto his face as he pulled away. “But everyone’s freaking out like crazy! It’s total anarchy out there and Lee’s still not back yet! I’m… I’m getting worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor had watched the champion during the chairman’s little monologue. He knew the face of a man who realized that he had made a grave mistake, whatever that may be. Maybe that was why the youth couldn’t really work up any real concern for him. But, he feigned it well enough, for Hop’s sake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What should we do? This isn’t just a challenge - we have a full-on legendary pokemon on our hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop shook his head, sounding more freaked out by the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t just sit around and do nothing! I’ve gotta help my brother!” Suddenly, the boy sighed, slumping his shoulders. “But… I don’t even know where to start. I’m not even strong enough to beat you. What good could I possibly be like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing Hop’s golden eyes to meet his determined brown irises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say that. You’re an amazing trainer, Hop, and you know it. We… We’ll help him together, alright? You and me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop tried for a weak smile, but it ultimately failed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor thought for a moment, racing through all of their options. If this thing was too strong for the pokemon experts over at Macro Cosmos, then what good would two teenage boys bring? There had to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> they could do, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie tapped Victor’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say, didn’t Chairman Rose mention somethin’ about it bein’ the Darkest Day or whatever? Like the old bedtime story?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he did.” Victor sighed. “I wish Sonia were here right now to help us out with this - she was the one researching the Darkest Day this whole summer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Marnie shrugged, “did she tell you anythin’ about it before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor and Hop shared a glance. Hop cleared his throat, obviously trying to ignore the fact that Victor was still holding onto his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, um… We ended up learning that there may have been two heroes instead of just one… And then there were the two statues over in Stow-in-Side of those pokemon, and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor and Hop gasped in unison, turning back to each other to scream out “THE MAD POKEMON FROM THE FOREST!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie flicked up an eyebrow, but remained silent at their revelation. She didn’t like how she was getting used to their overdramatic antics. Hop grabbed Victor’s hands in his excitement, a bright smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it!” the youth cheered. “That’s how we’re gonna help Lee. We’ll go back to Slumbering Weald and find that pokemon again. Maybe it can help us fight that Eternatus thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thinking, Hop!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie groaned, batting away the imaginary hearts that both boys seemed to be emanating. And people thought that </span>
  <em>
    <span>girls</span>
  </em>
  <span> were too gushy…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going back to Postwick,” Victor turned back to Marnie, “but will you be okay on your own? I mean, I’m sure you’ll be okay, but -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can manage with Morpeko. You two focus on your fairytale pokemon or whatever. I’ll stay here and see what I can do to help. Maybe find my brother. Now, get goin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both boys nodded, racing towards the exit. Only for Hop to slam into a wall, having to be pried off by Victor before they stumbled down the hall. Marnie shook her head, her Morpeko chittering happily by her side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boys are dumb.</span>
  </em>
  <span> With the help of her dark-type pokemon, she made her way towards the lobby, hoping to find something to help out with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks to the help of their pokemon (and eventually Marnie and her team, who they stumbled into twenty minutes ago), Piers and Raihan figured that they had cleared the entire internal parts of the stadium. By now, a large crowd of worried people all huddled together in the streets, surrounded by officers and paramedics who checked people over while they waited. Most of the other gym leaders were out here, now, focusing on speaking encouraging words to the public. Raihan helped a young MC employee down the front stairs after she had hurt her leg during the chaos of the blackout, eventually helping her into the arms of a paramedic before rejoining Piers at the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a gym leader, I’m pretty fucking pissed that Chairman Rose thinks he can get away with something like this,” Raihan lowered his voice just enough for only the musician to hear, “but as a historian, I hate to say that this is the most exciting thing ever. I mean, I get to </span>
  <em>
    <span>experience</span>
  </em>
  <span> the event that’s divided history books for centuries! Kind of wish I were up there right now to see just what this Eternatus thing is all about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited,” Piers frowned. “Looks like most people only got a few knicks and bruises here ‘n there. But if this blackout lasts much longer, we’re lookin’ at shit really startin’ to hit the fan. I’m talkin’ deaths, here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But we’re doing the best we can. I’m just taking a few notes so that I can write up a neat little report on this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nessa marched up the steps, her radiance hardly being dimmed by the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I heard you two. Raihan, mind if we borrow Turtonator for a bit? The other gym leaders thought it’d be a good idea to set up a beacon point so that people lost outside right now have a place they can be safe at.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’re you askin’ us?” Piers asked. “Do we </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> like fire-type users?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nessa huffed even as Raihan fished out Turtonator’s ball and dropped it into her awaiting hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that! I’m only asking because [Y/n] isn’t here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers felt his stomach drop like a bag of rocks inside of him. Raihan froze entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” the dragon-type user broke the short silence. “...What do you mean she isn’t here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no-one’s seen her since her match earlier today. I just figured that she up and left or something. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly kicked down the front doors, rushing into the lobby with Raihan racing after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, wait -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to wait!” the musician shouted from somewhere in the darkness. “[Y/n] could be hurt somewhere in here and you’re tellin’ me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We searched most of this place and didn’t see any signs of her - who knows where she could be! Even with your pokemon, it could take you forever to find her - and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> if she’s even here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What other choice do I have?” Piers spun around, not caring if he was nowhere near the dragon tamer. “If she got hurt and I wasn’t there to help, I’d never forgive myself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan stopped. The reverberation of Piers’ voice echoed a bit around them, but nobody except for the two felt it. A welt of anxiety began to creep up in Raihan’s gut as he remembered what had happened in the stands before everything turned off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... You like her, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers frowned, running a hand through his fringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what if I do? What’s that gotta do with anythin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan ran a hand down his cheek, shaking his head just a bit. He knew he was being childish about this, but he couldn’t help himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man… So </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the guy I’m competing against? Didn’t think that you were her type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark-type specialist opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he processed just what Raihan had said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re the guy I’m competing against”. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That meant Raihan saw him as a rival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan liked you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And knowing Raihan, he probably already confessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers had half the mind to just beat the living dog-shit out of Raihan right then and there, but the earth shook below their feet, sending both men scrambling for something to hold onto. Piers managed to grab a wall, while Raihan tumbled down to his rear. Seeing an opportunity, the dark-type gym leader started making his way down the hall, pulling out Obstagoon’s pokeball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll talk about this later! You oughta head to Hammerlocke and see what you can do there - I’ll find her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers, wait - goddammit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Raihan got his bearings, the other man was already long gone. A deep frown cut through his handsome features, an expression once again feeling oddly unfamiliar upon his skin. He knew it was childish, and he would never want to put you in jeopardy. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but want to be the one to carry you out of here, to be the knight in shining armor that you deserved. But knowing exactly who else he was up against at least gave him a mild sense of ease. He knew that Piers may not be as clueless as someone like Leon when it came to romance, but at the same time, he also knew that Piers got flustered and shy when it came to stuff like this. Confidence was key in winning someone’s heart (most of the time), so Raihan felt a minor advantage, there. However, while Raihan may be technically more popular than Piers according to the everyday Galarian person, you weren’t exactly an everyday Galarian person. For once, he couldn’t afford to get cocky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But still, this was your life we were talking about. Raihan knew that Piers would be more equipped to find and rescue you than he was, and he wasn’t so childish as to think any otherwise. So, even though it chipped at his ego, he returned back to the masses, checking in with the other gym leaders before taking to the skies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers may have gotten this little victory, but Raihan wouldn’t let him have any more. He’d find a way to win your heart, one day. And he was already thinking of the perfect way to do just that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both boys approached the gate of Slumbering Weald, which somehow managed to only increase in its seemingly omniscient ominousness. Victor and Hop shared anxious glances. They very well couldn’t just run away, now. No, they had to see this through. So both boys made their way into the depths of the forest, pokeballs in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The forest was already dark and creepy when they first came here. It felt like an eternity ago, now, when Hop had somehow convinced Victor to chase after that curious Wooloo that fateful Wednesday afternoon. Victor couldn’t help but think at how different things were since then. He looked over at Hop, who was entirely focused on not looking completely scared shitless as they tiptoed through the tall grass. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He never used to get this close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Victor thought as he noted the vanishing space between their shoulders. It all made his body heat up at the thought of it, a nervous smile slapped stupidly onto his face. He silently thanked the darkness that concealed his rising embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I d-didn’t realize that this place c-could get any worse,” Hop tried to laugh through his stammers. He took another step and accidentally broke a stray twig on the ground, startling a nearby Rookiedee that sprang up right beside him. Hop screamed, grabbing onto Victor’s arm and pulling himself closer, even though Hop himself was the bigger of the two. Victor.exe stopped functioning for a moment, even after Hop let out a nervous chuckle. “I-I, um… Yeah, uh, let’s keep going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor paused again to thank the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two youths wandered a bit further. They already had no idea what time it was once the Darkest Day sapped out all the power of practically everything in the region, but it seemed as though the concept of time itself was forgotten entirely within the depths of the forest. They had been walking for so long, their legs were definitely getting sore, but who really knows how long they were in there - maybe a few minutes, maybe a few eons. But there was no giving up now. So on they walked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, that haunting fog began to creep into the air, making everything even fuzzier in the ever-present night. Hop whimpered a bit, instinctively grabbing and squeezing Victor’s free hand. Victor.exe has to reboot due to an unforeseen error.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-we, um,” Hop tried to tug Victor along, looking away to hide his burning hot face, “we should, uh, stay close. You know, so we… so we d-don’t get lost or anything, ha-ha…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor nodded. This mission to save the region was definitely going a bit different than he would have expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two moved through the mist, keeping as close together as they could manage, crouching low as if it would help them. By now, the sounds of distant pokemon had faded away, leaving only the hush of the breeze all around them. Anxiety beat against Victor’s ribs, but he refused to show any of it; he knew that Hop was terrified, right now, so he decided that he would be brave for the both of them. And definitely not because he wanted to impress Hop some more. Totally not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another eternity, however, the boys were surprised to find themselves stepping out of the eerie fog. Sound had spontaneously returned to their ears, the sounds of a lake and a distant waterfall easing away a little bit of the tension in their bodies. In the darkness, they could just barely make out a structure some feet away. The two boys shared another glance, squeezing each other’s hands a bit before walking forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The closer they got, the more it came into focus. They were in a clearing of sorts, and right in front of a lake stood a stone structure that looked about ready to collapse. Dusty stone steps carried them up to a giant crumbling arch, once ancient-looking designs etched into it. On the pedestal stood a rather magical sight; a rusted sword and rusted shield rested on a small mantle, looking incredibly important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Hop scratched his head, “either they’re enchanted key items for our quest… oooor they’re cursed. Place your bet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The legend says that a hero sprung out from the earth with a divine sword and shield,” Victor peered closer. “Maybe these are the weapons from the legend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s worth a try. Even without that mad pokemon, I have a feeling that these might be what we need to help Lee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Hop stepped forward, grasping onto the handle of the sword and effortlessly pulling it from its place. He stumbled back a bit, obviously expecting more of a struggle. He examined it with awe written all over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful,” Victor reminded him. “Mind the tetanus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no lie,” Hop chuckled. “You’re turn, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor looked back over at the shield. Even in the dim lighting, he could see elegant etchings of medieval designs sprawling all across the cold metal, still visible even with the harsh rust that covered it. It was incredibly roughed up, looking more like a relic from a lost war rather than one from a successful hero. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a strange pull towards it. His hands grazed the face of the shield before he used both hands to tug it free. A little heavy, but once he strapped it onto his arm, it was manageable. At least until his arm gets tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ace work, mate,” Hop grinned. “Now, let’s hurry up and head back. Lee’s counting on us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor agreed, and the two boys raced off, taking to the skies on Hop’s Corviknight not too long after. Dynamaxed pokemon wandered about all over the place, no doubt from the massive energy storm a ways away. Thankfully, none of them paid the boys mind as they soared above the earth. In the distance, both youths could see the spiralling energy storm that had completely taken over the top of Hammerlocke Stadium. Somewhere the chaos, Leon was there, no doubt fighting the battle of his life. Victor wanted to hope that Leon really was trying to help save the day, but his heart couldn’t manage. This man had let him down in the worst of ways. He didn’t dare try to think well of him after everything he’d done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were already having a pretty terrible day. So, after you stumbled out of the supply closet, you decided that you would ignore your problems just like always and take a nap on the cot as recommended. You had fallen into a heavy, dreamless sleep, only to bolt awake once more by the sound of what you thought was an explosion. You pushed yourself awake, trying to gather your bearings. Cue some intense light flickering before everything blows out in a blast of smoke and sparks. You shriek in surprise, throwing your hands over your head and face as everything went black. A tense silence followed. All you could hear for the longest time was the sound of your own heavy breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okaaaay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you tried to peer through the darkness, but to no avail, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that was weird. Something bad is definitely happening.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You carefully pull yourself out of the cot, hands out in front of you as you try to find your way out of the infirmary. But, of course, because the world absolutely fucking hates you and is determined to make you hate existence today, you trip on what might have been a chair and fall. You barely open your mouth to scream when your head slams into the corner of a table and you fall onto your side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hardly know if you passed out or not, but when you’re able to pull off relatively intelligent thought once again, you’re feeling horribly nauseous and feel like the ground is swaying underneath you. You try to roll onto your stomach, a heavy groan escaping your lips; you eventually do, but your arms aren’t cooperating enough to push you upright. Something trickling down your face, hot and warm, and your head is throbbing like no tomorrow with a terrible migraine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh-shit…” you groan out, trying to move your jellified arms to no avail. “Of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> course… hnnnggg…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You press your other cheek to the ground, desperate for the cool touch it provided for your face. Despite your obvious lack of comprehension, you know well enough now that you’re in trouble. A head wound definitely wasn’t a good thing by itself, so a head wound while trapped in a power outage with chaos going off in the distance probably wasn’t a good thing, either. A part of you just wants to go back to sleep, and you almost do when you suddenly gasp in realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Concussion. Can’t sleep. Might not wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You groan again at that thought, attempt to stand back up, and prompt fall back onto the floor. Things really weren’t looking so good for you, right about now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I might die.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You manage another shaky breath, trying to fight away the growing urge to fall asleep. Your head is spinning, and the migraine beats harder against your skull with every passing second.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I might actually die.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, though, you aren’t too upset at that. A little panicked, sure, but that’s more of an instinct. Your intelligent thoughts don’t seem to mind the whole ‘never wake up again’ thing. Though, all things considered, that might just be because you are quite literally suffering from head trauma and are probably delirious. But that doesn’t really matter to you right now. No, right now, just the idea of getting to close your eyes for a bit longer to get rid of this pain is enough to ease your face back against the ground, eyes fluttering closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You just barely begin to zone out when the sound of claws clicking against tile pulls you back into consciousness. You groan at the sound. It’s muffled and distant, but every step brings it closer and closer. Eventually, you hear a loud sniffing sound from behind the door, disturbing growls and whines making some mild anxiety rise up again. You have half the mind to crawl away in an attempt to hide when the sound of footsteps catches your attention. Someone’s running down the hall. A strange, heckling sound echoes from behind the door, claws ticking against the tile a few times more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A pokemon?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find something?” a voice called out. They sound out of breath, gasping in what might be panic. The owner of the voice hardly waits for a response before the sound of the infirmary door creaks into life, pulling another annoyed groan from your lips. “Holy shit - [Y/n], are you alright?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone pulls you up, turning you around in their arms. You open your eyes a bit and wait for them to adjust. You can just barely make out the face hovering over you, icy blue eyes searching your face with obvious worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piers…” you mumble, feeling his finger brush away some of the blood from your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, that looks bad,” he huffed, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other underneath your legs. “We gotta get you outta here. Don’t you fuckin’ pass out on me, ya hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmkay,” you manage, letting your head lull against his chest. His hands are a little cold, but the rest of him is nice and warm. You almost fall asleep like this before you remember what you were told. “What… what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers sighs, standing to his feet and carrying you out of the room. The sounds of what you believe to be one of his pokemon stomp ahead of you both, guiding you out of the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not too sure myself. But sounds like Chairman Rose decided it’d be a great idea to let out some crazy pokemon from a legend in hopes of controlling it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clarity hits you like a fucking truck. You gasp, sitting up a bit in Piers’ arms and startling the man as you did so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… yeah. I mean, it’s dumb, I know, but -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” your voice is trembling. You feel tears forming in your eyes, and your chest throbs with the rising pulse inside of it. “This is just what happened last time - I thought I was done with this - no please don’t let this be happening!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you talkin’ about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who went to stop it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>FOR FUCK’S SAKE PIERS WHO WENT TO STOP THE POKEMON!?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um - Leon! Leon did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re gasping and panting, failing entirely at slowing down your impending anxiety attack. You shake your head over and over as if trying to will yourself away. This couldn’t be happening, right? Not a second time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You finally managed to spit out some more chaotic words. “He went </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - well, uh, at first he did. But I reckon that Hop and Victor are on their way right now to -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>HOP AND VICTOR?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, the world really seemed out to get you, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You kicked your legs, ignoring all the pain in your body as you struggled out of Piers’ grasp. He tried to hold onto you, yelling at you to calm down before you tugged hard on his ponytail, sending the two of you tumbling backwards. You crawled off from him, struggling to get onto your feet. You only make it a few steps before Piers grabs you again, eliciting a frustrated shriek from you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two kids are going to fight a legendary pokemon and you all just </span>
  <em>
    <span>let them</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?” you cry out, ignoring the fountain of tears streaming down your face. You can hardly see him in the darkness, but you can just barely make out his shocked expression. It’s not that you’re mad at him, exactly - well, maybe a little. You’re not sure. All you know is that you’re pissed and scared and hurting and history seems to be repeating itself in more ways than one.  “In what fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe</span>
  </em>
  <span> does that sound like a good goddamn idea?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers says your name softly, but you’re still batting away his gentle hands. He sighs a little bit, but doesn’t stop trying to reach out for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please calm down,” he speaks slow and gentle, as if saying the words of a lullaby, “it’s gonna be alright, love. They’re strong - stronger than the rest of us. They’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that!” you sob, eventually grabbing onto his wrists to keep him still. “None of you know that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to them. Leon would never -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon doesn’t give a shit! Don’t lie to me and tell me that you really actually think he cares! Those kids could </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span> out there and nobody would even know until it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>too fucking late</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another painful sob chokes out of you, and you lower your head into your knees as you completely break down. It’s all too much. It was bad enough that you saw yourself in Victor - you didn’t need him to live your life. You didn’t want him to end up like you - all messed up, tired, and washed up to the point of being a burden to everyone unfortunate enough to know you. You let go of Piers’ wrists in favor of hiding your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes of sobbing pass you by. He lets you cry it out, simply sitting there on the ground right in front of you as you let out disgusting cough after disgusting cough. It’s embarrassing, really, but at the same time, you’re grateful for it. He’s not getting mad at you or trying to drag you out kicking and screaming. No, he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting, no doubt wearing that same sad puppy-dog look he gets sometimes when it’s just the two of you. Eventually, you run out of tears, left sitting there with only trembling gasps and the occasional sniffle. You start to pull yourself out of your little ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” his voice picks up, remarkably soft. “Figured you’d wanna just, y’know, do your thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine… I… I just kinda freaked out and needed to have a moment. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles a bit, timidly reaching out to your face under the guise of checking your head wound. His fingers eventually trail down a bit before cupping your cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be. Marnie used to cry a lot as a kid, so it doesn’t bother me. Most of the time, you just gotta… let it out… with nobody botherin’ you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod, pressing your own hand against his to feel more of his touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another small tremor pulls you both out of the moment. You reach out for Piers, and immediately he pulls you close to pick you off the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, we gotta hurry,” he started down the hallway, “you need a doctor to look you over. And I don’t like the idea of stayin’ inside much longer with all these tremors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You agree and wrap your arms around his neck. He warms up a bit at that, but pulls you tighter against him as he jogs down the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys jumped down from the back of Corviknight, hardly wasting any time in their race towards the stadium. Much to their surprise, there was Raihan, waiting at the front of the stadium with an expectant grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if it isn’t the two rising stars of the challenge? Here to help our very own champion and save Galar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nodded. Raihan beckoned them to his side, spinning on his heels and heading into the castle-like structure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought as much. You know, with you two firecrackers </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the champion up there at once, I almost feel bad for the Darkest Day. But with all the energy sapped from the region, I can’t use my phone to take a selfie, so try to end this thing fast, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were inside, both boys caught sight of Sonia, fiddling with the control pad of the restricted lift. But perhaps what was more startling was Miss Oleana, who ran up to the boys in a panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gym challengers!” she called out, her worried face making Raihan </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wish he had camera access. “You must help me! I-I mean… Please help me. A very powerful pokemon named Eternatus has broken out of our research facility, and now is unleashing massive amounts of energy all over the region. We’ve already had some Dynamax incidents here in the stadium - if any more pokemon Dynamax, it could be catastrophic!” She suddenly spun around, looking at the doorway to the lift. “If another pokemon Dynamaxes here and starts causing trouble, the entire stadium could collapse! And Chairman Rose is </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> down below!” She locked eyes with the boys, holding her hands up to her chest. “Please, you must hurry down there and help him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys glanced at each other, sharing a look of shock in Miss Oleana’s strange state, before Victor ended up clearing his throat and stepping forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll hurry down there, but… If all the energy in the region is going haywire right now, doesn’t that mean that the lift won’t work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we were at Rose Tower, that would be a bigger problem. But thankfully, the Hammerlocke Stadium Research Lab has a few safety features to combat any sudden power outages. A pokemon powered crank system was set in place several years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan hummed in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what that thing does…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miss Oleana pulled out a pokeball, meeting Victor’s eyes once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please hurry and save the chairman before it’s too late. Then, stop this madness before it consumes the entire region.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor nods wordlessly. He and Hop swerve around the woman, approaching a rather focused Sonia while Miss Oleana drags Raihan down a hallway. Sonia jumps in surprise when she sees the boys - particularly at Victor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Boys, you’re here! Great - boy, do I have some exciting news for -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Sonia, we know,” Hop rushed her along, “you probably learned something new about the Darkest Day because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>happening right now so let’s hurry up a bit please!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay! Geez, you’re impatient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reaches around the side of the control pad, feeling around through a hole in the wall before suddenly smiling when she finds whatever it is she wanted. With all her strength, she pulls, groaning and huffing dramatically. Before either boy could ask what she was doing, they noticed the doors to the elevator slowly opening, revealing a haunting dark metal interior. Again, the boys exchanged anxious looks before slipping inside. The doors promptly shut behind them, drenching the two in ultimate darkness. It was a terrible silence - the kind where all you can hear is the sound of your own racing heartbeat against the nothingness all around - before the elevator suddenly jerked down, making a slow and rough descent to the unknown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey, Victor?” Hop’s voice suddenly chimed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You…” the normally bright-eyed boy sounded nervous, but didn’t try to laugh off his nerves like he normally does. “... you don’t figure that we’ll die, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor’s voice hitched a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to say it, or even think it, but it was quite a terrible truth. They very well could be walking straight towards their deaths, armed with only two broken medieval weapons to fight something that hardly seemed real. This might be a battle no-one would make it out of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t… Don’t say that, Hop. W-we’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to pretend, you know. I know you worry a lot about me, well, since I was so down on myself earlier in the challenge… But I can handle it. You don’t have to keep acting so tough in front of me - I already </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re the best there is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor smiled at that, running a hand over his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… thanks, Hop… You’re really important to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, yeah… You’re, um… You’re really important to me, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm silence settled over them once more. Every time the elevator moved down, it was a harsh but short drop down that sent the boys tumbling every few breaths. Victor accidentally tumbled into Hop, only to find himself falling right into the taller boy’s embrace. Victor felt his entire body heat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” Hop paused, trying to find the right words. “... So… Not saying that we won’t, but… If we </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it out of here, then…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor waited for him to continue, but his voice hid away. Victor lifted his head, praying for just one more clear look into his friend’s eyes before they had to run into danger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listened to Hop take a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we shouldn’t have regrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor braced himself when suddenly the elevator dropped a little lower, momentarily picking the two off their feet before tumbling down to their butts. They shared a pained groan as the doors began to jerk open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, bullocks,” Hop mumbled as he picked himself up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two slipped out of the elevator, looking all around at the damage that remained. Tiny fires scattered across the floor, countless debris of what appeared to be technical equipment forcing the boys to watch their step as best as they could. Eventually, they looked down the hall, where the hushed echoes of flames emanated darkly. They walked down towards it, walking up the brief set of steps before locking eyes with none other than Chairman Rose. For a man surrounded by giant flames and broken down machinery, he seemed remarkably calm. He even gave the boys a gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, if it isn’t the two boys endorsed by the champion himself. I’m quite impressed with both of your performances. It isn’t often that gym challengers get the crowds so riled up. Ratings have never been so high.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sewed his mouth shut. He knew that if he so much as opened his mouth, he’d shout something he’d regret in front of Hop. As if knowing this, Chairman Rose looked over to the tan-skinned youth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see that you’re eager to save your brother just like before. It’s no wonder that Leon has done so much just to keep his beloved brother safe from harm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I am!” Hop declares. “Lee’s always risking his life to protect everyone in Galar, so of course I’m gonna risk my life to protect his!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such an innocent boy, you are. You remind me of him when he was first starting out. Just bursting with life, innocence… </span>
  <em>
    <span>naivety</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor paled. He looked over to see Hop’s frowning face, clearly confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? You mean to tell me that you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor stepped forward, grabbing Gallade’s pokeball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough, Chairman. We’re just here to help you get out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in no hurry to leave. Besides, I’m sure that Leon’s managing well enough out there on his own. It’s the price he has to pay for his lack of vision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s enough!” Victor unleashed the pokemon, who immediately stepped into an offensive stance. Victor had full intent to take the chairman by force when Hop suddenly put an arm out in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” the boy exhaled, looking confused. “I… I want to know what you mean by that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose gave a vicious smirk. Victor couldn’t even find the words to begin the terror that rumbled through his body. There was nothing he could do to stop this from happening. All he could do was stand there and watch Chairman Rose commit his final act of cruelty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have spent most of my adult life working towards a better, brighter future for the people of Galar. Leon has the same sort of drive, but never allowed himself to see the bigger picture. No, Leon was always so focused on the lives of his beloved </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You seem to have earned a very special place in your brother’s heart, Hop. So much so that Leon was willing to take up </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>task I gave him in order to achieve my vision - all in order to keep his younger brother and family safe from further harm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop’s hands raised a bit, but he lowered them with a shake of the head. Victor couldn’t watch anymore. He lowered his eyes to the ground, trying to keep his composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about?” Hop shouted. “You’re acting like that’s a bad thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, to me, it was quite necessary and helpful. But to countless others, it has been - shall I say - </span>
  <em>
    <span>catastrophic</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Your friend Victor knows that </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Victor pulled Hop back, Gallade stepping forward in kind. “You’re wasting our time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chairman Rose chuckled, pulling out a pokeball of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was the plan, wasn’t it? I can’t have two children running around to further interrupt my goals. The champion </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>catch Eternatus, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> bring it to me. So I have no intention of letting you both continue to threaten my dreams for Galar!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers carried you out of the stadium, hardly missing a beat in getting you to a few paramedics as soon as possible. They sat you down on the curb of the street, using the light of an officer’s Sizzlipede to inspect your injury while Piers ran back in to grab your stuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a pretty nasty laceration, there, miss,” the main paramedic informed you, wiping away at the wound with an alcohol wipe. “We’ll run you through a few tests to see how bad the concussion is once I finish wrapping this up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, the nice man carefully wraps up your head, trying to be as careful as possible everytime you wince or get disoriented from the movement. Once he’s done, you listen to what you’re told and follow through with a few questions and exercises. Him and his partner ask information like your name and birthday, what day it was when everything happened and what your type specialty was. They moved on to testing your vision (as best they could in the dim lighting), hearing, coordination, strength - all that good stuff. With all they could do having been done, the paramedic kneels down in front of you, giving a quick pat on the head to his very well-behaved Sizzlipede.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Overall, it’s not as bad as it looks. You’re going to be dizzy and confused for a little while longer, I’d say, but after some relative rest, you’ll start to feel better. So no blood thinners - avoid aspirin for the first week just to be safe - and definitely no alcohol. You’ll want to rest for the first few days with a limit on stimulating activities, so that means no TV, no games, no battles - none of that, alright? After a few days of that, then you can start to work yourself up towards being more active.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I avoid sleeping?” you ask. Probably best to confirm that with a medical professional.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a common myth that you aren’t allowed to sleep if you get a concussion,” he laughed, letting his pokemon crawl up his extended arm and along his shoulder. “Sometimes that can be the case, yes, but not always. So long as the person is able to hold a conversation and isn’t displaying any worrisome symptoms, sleep is fine. In your case, though, I’d wait just a bit longer before knocking out. You look fine, but you’re still having trouble walking. Once you can walk in a straight line decently enough, then you’re free to nap away, Miss Gym Leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh in relief. Perhaps sleep wouldn’t be taken from you after all! You thank the man and he gives you a cheery thumbs up before moving on. You’re just about to stand up to try and walk again when a blanket suddenly is draped around you. You instinctively grab it - you hardly noticed how cold you were until you felt warmth surround you - and look to your side. Piers is just settling down on the curb at your left, holding in his hands your clip of pokeballs and your duffel bag. In the background, you hear Obstagoon heckling as he slumped onto the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry it took us awhile,” Piers smiled as you grabbed your things. “The clip was easy, but the bag… not so much. Broke into ‘bout six different lockers before Obstagoon remembered what scent we were lookin’ for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh, passing a quick wave to the pokemon. He heckled loudly, sounding almost like a proud, yet insane laughing man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate it. I didn’t like the idea of my pokemon stuck in there during all… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t blame ya. But at least we managed to get everybody outta there. Now it’s just the wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked over into the sky, where the storm clouds raged even more violently than before. If you looked close enough, you swore you could see something occasionally slicing through the clouds - an appendage, of some sort. It sent shivers down your spine, forcing you to huddle deeper into the blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, um…” Piers lowered his voice, leaning into your shoulder a bit. “You… you mentioned somethin’ earlier. Y’know, ‘bout this happenin’ to you again, or something? What did you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grimace. The headache you struggled with was less intense than before, but it still made it hurt to try and remember anything further than breakfast. Even still, those memories wafted into the back of your mind’s eye, eager to make themselves known once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... It’s a long story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers looks around, as if to match sure no-one’s watching. Much to your surprise, you feel him hesitantly snake an arm around your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze into his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I wouldn’t ask if I was just bein’ nosy. But you seemed real freaked out in there, and… I got worried. If somethin’ botherin’ you, then… please don’t be afraid to let me know.” He ran another hand through his hair, suddenly looking a bit bashful. “Ah, well, uh, that is, if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell me. You don’t hafta or nothin’. I just… thought I’d ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder. He tensed up a bit, but eventually started to relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate it, but… I shouldn’t have said that in there. I’d rather just keep letting you guys see the better parts of me, and not the parts that I regret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses a bit, staring off into the clouds above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘You guys’... as in me ‘n Raihan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paled. Piers isn’t looking at you, head up with that look of exhaustion returning to his face. He definitely could use a good night’s sleep. Or maybe some really good concealer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How - who told -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” Piers sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We didn’t get to, uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>discuss</span>
  </em>
  <span> all that, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of guilt rises up in your chest. You shouldn’t have let things go this far - not with either of them. But here you were, leading two very kind-hearted guys along just because you really weren’t sure who you liked more. With Raihan, you’re relaxed and able to forget all that bothers you, and he’s plenty fun and plenty hot. But with Piers, it’s like having an entirely unique piece of the world at your fingertips, forbidden and rare - something that reminds you that feeling weak isn’t always such a bad thing. To be honest, you liked both of them quite a bit. They had totally different charms, but you liked them for who they were and who you became when around them. Which made this whole situation, like, fifty times worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers must’ve caught sight of the panic on your face, because he finally met your eyes and gave you a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look so worried. Raihan ‘n I ain’t so daft as to make you choose right away… or at all. I can’t speak for him on this, but… I’d rather you do whatever makes you happy, and… if that’s somewhere else, then… I’ll manage, ‘kay?” You manage a nod. Piers hums, pulling you a bit closer to he could rest his chin on your head. “And… if you’ll let me… I’d like to keep tryin’ to prove what I’m feelin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm pulse runs through your body. You can’t fight the flustered smile that works it way onto your face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Thanks for… being so understanding. I hope Raihan can be, too. I’d hate for something bad to happen between us or you two over something like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah. Raihan’s mad competitive, so he’ll probably be all over it. But I don’t plan on losin’ to him anytime soon, love. You’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You close your eyes, all the stress of the day slowly starting to become more manageable. Nothing fades - you just feel yourself gaining the strength to deal with it. So you let yourself melt a little more into his hold and lose your thoughts to the smell of his cologne. For once, you’re thankful for the darkness that gives you such a soft, tender moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor could hardly breathe. Never before had silence been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffocating</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the time from when the battle began and when the chairman was shoved out of the elevator shaft to the main stadium lobby, Hop had been deathly silent. Victor wanted to say something - anything - but the words were lodged tightly in the depths of his throat. They stood in the dark of the lift, once again dealing with the jerky movements of the crank system as they now ascended to the roof. Victor fiddled with his hands, pulling the hem of his shirt in hopes of finding the strength to speak. Though he couldn’t see his best friend’s face, he knew it was moments from bursting with emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... You knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor turned to the sound of Hop’s voice, trying desperately to see through the darkness. For the first time in what felt like a long while, Hop was out of his reach, unable to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Victor wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep calm. But even his once stone-like resolve was fading away. “You looked up to him so much, a-and so did I, but then I found out for myself and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you known all this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop kept stern, but Victor could hear the slight tremble in his voice. The boy sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Since Stow-in-Side… After you left to take on the gym, I talked to the chairman. That’s when he told me, and… told me to forfeit the challenge.” Hop took a sharp breath of air and Victor scrambled to explain more. “B-but I didn’t! I couldn’t just let you do the challenge by yourself! I promised that I’d be there with you every step of the -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you had just quit,” Hop’s voice was painfully serious, almost sounding too much like Leon, “then I’d be the one challenging him. And I never would’ve had to hear from someone else that my own brother killed someone.” Victor lowered his head, tears spilling out of his eyes. “I could’ve gone my whole life just living in a lie. And everyone would’ve let me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> would’ve let me. Was all of this just your way of getting revenge, Victor? You just used me to get stronger just so you can challenge Leon yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I would never -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe you!” the boy’s voice startled Victor so much that he stumbled backwards to the otherside of the elevator. “I don’t believe a word anybody says anymore! Not you, not Leon - </span>
  <em>
    <span>nobody</span>
  </em>
  <span>! All because everyone seems to think that I’m too weak to handle anything! Well, guess what? I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Hop, don’t -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors began to open. Before Victor could push himself straight, Hop was already slipping between the crack of the doors, already pulling out a pokeball with a tight grip of the ancient sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop, wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor raced after his friend, only to stop in his tracks once the piercing red light in front of him came into focus. Even Hop stumbled to a fearful halt at the sight displayed before them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A terrifying beast hovered above the ground, emanating an intense red energy as it let out a skull-shattering shriek. Somewhere ahead of them stood none other than Leon and his Charizard, standing heroically in the center of the roof. Hop gritted his teeth and ran forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The champion gasped, spinning around with his cape flapping in the intense gusts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hop refused to stop, the creature known as Eternatus let out another fierce roar. Victor finally found the strength to move, rushing up the stairs with his eyes fixed on his friend. The creature began an attack, and Leon gritted his teeth. He pulled out what appeared to be his last pokeball - a basic red-and-white - and tossed it over at the beast. Hop stepped up behind Charizard, watching the ball encapsulate Eternatus before falling to the ground. He opened his mouth to speak, but Leon raised a hand. It wasn’t over yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor could feel his heartbeat racing in his ears. He knew he should go over to Hop, but his legs wouldn’t move. He was entirely frozen solid.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon and Charizard shared a tense look. They had weakened Eternatus substantially, but that didn’t mean it was a guaranteed catch. But he couldn’t risk letting the pokemon blast his brother off the roof. All they could do was hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Three</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop took a hesitant step back, a sudden urge rising up inside his body that screamed for him to run. He risked a look back at Victor, terror in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charizard!” Leon shouted, and the fire-type immediately spun around to protect Hop. Leon spun on his heels as the ball began to crack, rays of furious red light slicing through the metal ball. He grabbed Victor just as the explosion rang out, sending shards of metal and debris flying in every direction. Leon and Victor were blown backwards, the champion rolling midair to take the force of the fall. They tumbled down the steps, grunting with every bounce, before Victor slipped out of Leon’s hold. Eternatus’ cries shook the entire building with a newfound vigor, and the storm started up even more intensely than before. Victor slowly pushed himself to his knees, trying to regain the air that had been knocked out of his lungs. He glanced over at the champion and immediately gasped. Leon was unconscious, a pained look on his face as he lay slumped on his side. A growing stain of blood was evolving from his right side, making the black fabric glisten morbidly in the red light. Victor could hardly believe his eyes; he checked Leon’s pulse, trying desperately to ignore the violent shaking of his hands. A beat was there, but it was weak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charizard, you alright?” he could hear Hop cry out from up ahead. Victor forced himself to his feet to see the tan boy holding the fire-type’s head. The blast must have knocked him out, as well. Hop saw Victor, both trying to fathom exactly what had just happened when Eternatus let out another deathly howl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, the two looked down at their ancient weapons. They looked back up, eyes shining with newfound determination. The two regrouped at the center of the roof, staring up at the creature as they reached for their pokeballs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No turning back now. They’d either save the day or die trying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The battle began.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed! Friday's update will be the Season Finale of Act 2 - man, time really does fly, huh? As I mentioned earlier, I'll def be taking a little break before posting Act 3 so I can get ahead on chapters. I'm aiming to make some progress within a week's time so that I can be posting again by the first full week of 2021, but we'll see. As always, I'll still be online on Tumblr during my break, and will post any TDW news on there if I decide I need more time or whatever. But, uh, yeah! That's that~!</p><p>Thanks for reading, y'all. Can't wait to show you guys the Act 2 Season Finale on Friday - there, we'll get answers to some big questions, only to see more questions begin to brew in their stead, hehehe....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Exposition, the Movie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Season Finale, everybody! Also! It's a holiday today! Like! Happy Holidays!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When morning arrived the following day, so did a wide-spread sense of gratitude. The moment your eyes fluttered open and could see your bedroom effortlessly, you took a deep breath and exhaled. You had survived to see the light of day. Once again, you affirmed that this was what it meant to be alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the moment he found you in the infirmary, Piers had hardly left your side. While he eventually did let you go (most likely to save himself from being seen in that kind of light by others just yet), he kept close so you always knew he was there. A few of the other gym leaders wandered by, making sure that you were okay and if you guys needed anything. You were still dealing with nausea, so you politely shook your head. It seemed as though most people were getting acclimated to the darkness, though a good handful of people had to be taken somewhere else due to panic attacks. The last thing anyone needed right now was a mass hysteria-induced riot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud explosion in the distance caught everyone’s attention. In a curious unison, everyone scrambled to their feet, eyes looking at the bright blast of energy exploding from the top of Hammerlocke Stadium. And with its powerful gust of wind, the thick clouds blew away. The red electricity sputtered to nothing and the darkness began to fade as the clouds thinned out. The crowd fell silent, every pair of eyes watching in stunned disbelief as the full moon bestowed light onto the Galar region once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, the crowd broke into wild cheers. People screamed and cried and embraced one another. You heard Piers whistle beside you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like they got it all taken care of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t be so sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you had asked Piers to take you to Hammerlocke to see the boys yourself, he refused. And when you tried to walk there yourself, he promptly dragged you away. Energy was slowly returning to the region, and the crowd was beginning to disburse as people were cleared to go home. So now that he could see you clearly, he knew that you were definitely in no condition to be running into what might be another stressful situation and ended up calling a flying taxi. Marnie ended up joining the two of you at Piers’ request, leading up to a pretty silent ride as you tried to avoid looking out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marnie waited in the cab while Piers walked you back up to your apartment in Motostoke. A part of you couldn’t help but be a little mad that he wouldn’t let you see the boys tonight, but it was hard to stay mad when he took the time to get you settled in. Endearing as always, he got you some water, put some of your stuff away, plugged in your phone, and helped you get into bed. You pretended to huff a bit as he wished you goodnight, but when he pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead, you couldn’t help but smile like a dork. Hell, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> asked if he would consider staying the night. But that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, seeing as Marnie was still waiting for him in the cab. Maybe another time, you figured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then you ended up here, slowly waking up with a soft appreciation for life. The entire day before had felt like a neverending nightmare, but now that daylight had finally arrived, you had hope that things would be a little smoother from now on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were technically supposed to be resting today, but you couldn’t really help yourself. So, you got up and grabbed some clean clothes (seeing as you slept in your sweaty gym uniform) and jumped into the shower. You also took the time to check and clean your head wound - it wasn’t bleeding anymore, and definitely wasn’t as deep as you feared it was. You cleaned it a bit just to be safe, and slapped a thick bandage on it rather than spend the next fifty years wrapping it. It might end up leaving a big scar on the right side of your forehead, but that was fine. Hey, maybe it’d make you look cooler. So with that in mind, you got dressed, did your hair, brushed your teeth, and started to get ready to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grabbed your bag and your pokeballs, clipping them around one of the belt loops of your jean shorts and headed out the door. Hopefully things would be back in service again today so you could take the morning train. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were (albeit a little delayed) , and you did. You ended up scrolling through your phone for most of the hour-long ride. But eventually, you arrived in Hammerlocke, where you had gotten word that everyone had checked into the Budew Drop Inn for the night. You were on your way there when you caught a curious sight. There, sitting outside of the inn with his head resting atop his fists, was Hop. You started to smile at the sight of him, only to see a deadly serious expression on his normally chipper face. Your heart dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Hop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The youth snapped straight, startled entirely by your presence. He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head as he tried to give you a big smile. Obviously forced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, um, good morning, Gym Leader [Y/n]! What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came here to see how everyone was doing,” you stepped up to him, slowly taking a seat beside the youth on the street bench. “Are… you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep!” he looked away. “Totally fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You frowned, crossing your arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop… I can smell a lie from a mile away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still refused to meet your eyes, instead opting to stare off at an older lady attempting to walk three rambunctious Yampers on the opposite side of the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen?” you ask, voice a little softer this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You see Hop’s shoulders begin to sag. He looks down, giving you just enough view of his face to see a visible crease in his brows, a pained look in his eyes. You wanted to pull him into a hug right then and there, but something told you that he wanted a little bit of space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should ask Victor. He knows more about everything than I do, apparently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you can ask anything else, the boy pushes himself to his feet and walks off, hands behind his head. As much as you wanted to chase after him, you knew better than anyone that he probably needed some space right now, for whatever the reason may be. You recognized the look in his eyes, the look of someone who had been betrayed by the one they cared about. A panic welled up inside you as you pulled out your phone in a hurry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pulled up Victor’s contact, pressed the call button, and waited, leg bouncing in worry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cool of night brushed through Leon’s hair, a sudden gust nearly knocking his cap from his head. How he managed to convince the PR team and Miss Oleana that a custom snapback would add to his champion persona was beyond him, but he wasn’t complaining. It was familiar, a small pleasure of his that he wanted to hold onto just a bit longer. He gave the brim a little tug and shut the doors behind him as quietly as possible. Just five minutes of peace and quiet. Just five minutes away from the cameras and the reporters and his security guards. The boy craved peace for once, and he slipped away from everyone’s sight in order to find it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He jumped down the stairs, ignoring the loud echo of his loafers against the concrete as he raced down the side of the mansion. Immediately, he slipped into the shadows provided by the well-trimmed bushes, crouching low in hopes of making his way to the other side of the establishment. There, he found his destination; a simple pond brimming with a pod of elegant Goldeen, brushing against each other as they waltzed their lives away. Leon let himself out into the moonlight, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets as he got closer to the water. The Goldeen paid him no mind. They would rather dance with each other than take notice of a teenage boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He let out a sigh. Pokemon always had been an obsession of his, ever since his earliest memories. He missed being able to sneak out in the middle of the night to go exploring with Sonia or by himself, eager to find new creatures to learn about. And now, even when he attained all that he had sought out to gain, he couldn’t help but feel stuck. How the boy longed to be like those Goldeen, living without any overbearing desires and dreams to dampen their joys of swimming in a little pond for the rest of their days. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The crunch of footsteps caught his attention. Leon prepared himself for the inevitable scolding he would be receiving, and slowly turned around. However, it wasn’t Miss Oleana or anybody from his personal security team. No, it was Raihan, strolling up with his casual smile and his hands in his own pockets. Leon briefly wondered if Raihan had to get his neat navy blue suit specially made, seeing as the fifteen-year-old towered above most everybody he came across.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is this the Hide-From-Oleana party?” the dark-skinned trainer mused, his voice already so remarkably deep despite his youth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Looks like it,” Leon snickered. “But I thought you liked these sort of events.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan shrugged. He joined Leon before the pond, the two of them watching the dance of the Goldeen within the cool ripples below.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Eh, most of the time. But it’d probably be more fun if we didn’t have, like, fifty secret agents surrounding us 24/7.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you blame them? The crowds today were ravenous, and I feel like it just gets worse every year.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan chuckled, nudging Leon with his shoulder.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re getting older. The day we turn eighteen is gonna be a wild one, that’s for sure.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon groaned. His shoulder length hair fluttered around behind him. He’d kept it long, against the recommendations of his PR team. He didn’t really know why - he just liked it long. Thankfully, his fans seemed to like it, as well. Probably a bit </span>
  </em>
  <span>too</span>
  <em>
    <span> much, now that he thought about it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I knew that being champion meant being in the limelight all the time,” Leon sighed, “but I didn’t think about just what exactly being in the limelight would lead to.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m totally for it, to be honest. But the security team is so overrated. I mean, shit, Leon - we’re fifteen. Kids our age are already getting laid and going to keg parties, while you and I have to sit through twenty meetings a day about people arguing whether or not we should do an Oliver Spencer ad or a Richard James ad.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon looked over, a cheeky smile splaying over his face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Which one did they choose?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Richard James. Next Saturday, of course. You know, it’s always been my dream to spend a beautiful Saturday on a humid set with some posh bloke throwing thirty different suits at me for ten hours straight.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The two shared a muted laugh, trying to keep from being heard. Eventually, Raihan just sighed, rocking on his feet back and forth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, they definitely don’t tell you this stuff when you’re qualifying.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What, already thinking about retiring?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And let you get all my adoring fans?” Raihan played with the two dreads that rested on his forehead. They didn’t let him wear his headband, seeing as he wasn’t wearing it for once, so his hair was tied up in a simple topknot. “Nah, can’t have that. We may have lost a lot of opportunities to be normal, but the whole rich kid life </span>
  </em>
  <span>does</span>
  <em>
    <span> have a few perks for us poor boys…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Before Leon could ask, Raihan turned to face him. Leon watched as the taller boy reached into his blazer and revealed two small travel-sized bottles of Fireball, wearing a devious smirk.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Rich people always forget to lock up their booze.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon gaped at the sight, instinctively looking around as if they were already about to be caught.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Raihan!” he hissed as the taller boy laughed. “Where - how did -”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, don’t even play like you’ve never stolen alcohol before. You can’t be </span>
  </em>
  <span>that</span>
  <em>
    <span> much of a wet blanket.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon’s expression was enough of an answer. Raihan rolled his eyes, passing one of the bottles to his friend. Leon held the warm bottle with both hands, spinning it around a few times like he’d actually find something. No, this was definitely a little mickey. He bit his lip, passing a nervous glance up at Raihan. The two stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Raihan gave another chuckle.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re seriously not gonna make me drink this by myself, are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon gasped.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re not serious.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Totally,” the dragon tamer started screwing off the cap, making devious eye contact with the champion. “Are you in or out?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon looked down at the bottle, then towards the mansion, then up to Raihan. He knew that if he said ‘no’, Raihan would take back the bottle and leave him alone. So there really was no pressure to drink it. He really shouldn’t drink it - they were way underage. But the allure of a minor rebellion was incredibly enticing. With a deep breath, the young champion unscrewed his bottle, earning a pat on the shoulder from his friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s the spirit! Alrighty then.” Raihan raised up his bottle. “Here’s to teenage rebellion. May we fight for our own little moments of freedom, but not end up as terrible as Piers.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leon laughed, raising his bottle in kind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Here’s to our childhoods. May we always remember where we came from and never grow vain. Well, any more than we already are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sap,” Raihan teased. “Here’s to us, two kids who grew up way too fast.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Some more than others.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With another laugh, both boys downed their drinks. The moment the burning liquid touched his throat, Leon coughed, accidentally spitting some out to the side. Raihan was considerably more graceful in his swig, downing the whole bottle in one go while Leon took tiny, disgusted sips. Once both bottles were emptied, they concealed their deviancy into the depths of their coats.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Blegh,” Leon smacked his lips with his face all scrunched up. “I mean, I knew beer was gross because my dad snuck me some once, but </span>
  </em>
  <span>this</span>
  <em>
    <span> stuff… Yuck.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get used to it, champ,” Raihan wrapped an arm around Leon’s shoulders. “One day, you and I will be down in the club, getting drunk with supermodels. It’ll be the dream.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s with you and supermodels?” Leon snickered. It wasn’t the first time Raihan had mentioned hanging out with supermodels, and knowing the teen, it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Raihan gave a smug shrug of the shoulders.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Supermodels are hot. I’m a man of simple pleasures.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re gross.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re just as bad.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Only sometimes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The two shared another laugh, making their way back to the fancy dinner party with a newfound strength. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memory fizzled away into darkness, the persistent sounds of beeping digging into the man’s ears with every pulse. Leon groaned, trying to turn over, only to feel a tug on his right arm. His eyes slowly fluttered open, the world entirely out of focus as he tried to investigate. He saw a tube connected to his inner elbow, one that traveled off the side of his bed and up into what he recognized to be an IV. He looked around the room, things becoming clearer bit by bit, and realized that he was in a hospital room. His brain was running on Windows 97 as he tried to remember how he ended up here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Champion Cup Finals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Approaching his match with Victor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Chairman starting the Darkest Day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eternatus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Explosion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon ran his free hand through his hair, which was a bit tangled and knotted from sleeping on a pillow in his sweat for who knows how long. He looked out the window to his side, seeing the sun’s ray slowly filtering in through the blinds. No more darkness. It was bright outside. But he didn’t remember catching Eternatus himself, so… Who did?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Interrupting his thoughts was the doctor, who wanted to check the champion’s condition now that he was awake. A few tests and questions followed, and the doctor voiced that Leon was remarkably well despite having a slight concussion and a side injury. Almost as soon as he heard that, Leon felt a slight ache in his right side, leaning back into the pillows behind him in an effort to ease the stress on the injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not as bad as it seems,” the doctor assured him. “Some shrapnel pierced straight through the skin - thankfully, no organs were harmed. Your side muscles weren’t as fortunate. You’ll need a few days of rest before you even think about stepping out on the field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon nodded, managing a polite thanks to the doctor before the professional left the room. The last thing he remembered was jumping in front of Victor when he saw the pokeball breaking. He must have hit his head on the way down. So, did that mean that it was the boys who stopped Eternatus? The question urged a vengeful throb in his skull. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking headache</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was all he thought as he stared up at the ceiling. He figured that he should at least try to listen to the doctor’s orders. But he didn’t want to close his eyes. He really didn’t want to have anymore dreams of memories he longed to return to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps a few hours later, a nurse came in, smiling charmingly at the champion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Champion Leon,” she chimed out, leaning halfway through the door. “There’s someone here who wants to speak with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon groaned a bit as he pushed himself upright. It was rude to talk to someone while laying down, he figured. He wanted to ask who it was when the person stepped into the room themselves. Leon paled. The door shut behind him, leaving the two in a thick, tense silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victor,” Leon exhaled, watching the youth hesitantly approach a chair. The kid had some bruises lining his forearms, a cut that’s scabbed over on his chin, but otherwise looked fine. “You’re okay… and here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised, myself,” the youth admitted, pulling off his beanie and setting it into his lap. “I meant to go check on Hop, but… found myself here, instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me he’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine, more or less…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More or less?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sighed, absentmindedly fiddling with his beanie. Leon couldn’t remember a time the boy was without it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a little scuffed up like me, but… I’m sorry to say that he’s not doing so well mentally, as of late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon’s shoulders slumped, dropping with his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knows, doesn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to stop Chairman Rose from talking, but Hop was adamant about hearing him out. He hasn’t so much as looked at me since we fought Eternatus, much less talked to me. He didn’t even let Sonia in with dinner, last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon rubbed his hands over his face. This really couldn’t be happening, could it? He knows he should have been the one to explain everything to Hop - he knows he should have been more honest with everyone from the very beginning. This was the sign he had been dreading for years, now. His mountain was crumbling, revealing the pained faces of those he hurt on the way up. It was only a matter of days before it caved in entirely. When he finally lowered his hands, his eyes were red and he took several deep breaths to keep himself relatively calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I suppose that everyone knows the truth?” Leon’s voice was suddenly hoarse, barely audible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Victor shook his head. “Just us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not? This is your chance, isn’t it? It’s the final step before your happy ending.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor’s face held no emotion, much like always. And yet, despite his calm composure, his voice was just as weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is hardly the outcome I wanted.” Leon looked over just in time to see the boy wrap his arms around his waist, leaning forward ever so slightly. “The only reason I even considered doing the gym challenge was because Hop asked me to. For a while, that was good enough for me. But then I started getting so caught up in finding out what happened to Gloria that I entirely lost sight of what I had set out to accomplish. As much as I wanted to be there for Hop, I kept letting all… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>… ruin the fun memories I was supposed to be having. And now, here I am, finally able to bring you down… and I can’t do it.” A tear trickled down the boy’s cheek. “I can’t do it. I can’t ruin Hop to make myself feel better. Already people compare him to this perfect idea of you. I don’t want them comparing him to a murderer, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was silent, save for the few sniffling sobs from the youth. Leon looked up at the ceiling, trying to find the courage to speak. So many things he wanted to say for so long bubbled up in his throat, but his mouth refused to open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he said them aloud, he would most certainly be killed. But if he didn’t say them, his family would bear the burden of his infamy forever. So, really, what else could he do? He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor fell silent. Leon slowly opened his eyes, breathing heavily as Victor began to set himself upright, staring back at Leon with wet cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gloria’s alive. I… I didn’t... She’s alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lying,” Victor shook his head, but didn’t break eye contact. “Y-you can’t be telling me the truth - not now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t say it before, but… I don’t have much else to lose, now. So… I’ll tell you everything I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor hurriedly wiped his tears with the palms of his trembling hands, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Leon gripped the bedsheets, preparing himself in kind. This wouldn’t be an easy story to tell. But if he owed anything to this poor child, he owed him at least the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I first became champion, the league was entirely focused on keeping an image of youthfulness for me. I was still a celebrity and technically an official employee of the league, but I only ever attended gym leader meetings and learned most everything I needed to know about being champion through my own personal security team. I had a few responsibilities and duties, but they were mostly just PR stuff. The year I turned eighteen was the year that the chairman started giving me more serious responsibilities. Suddenly, I was responsible for protecting the deeper, darker secrets of the league, and of Macro Cosmos, in kind. It was also the year that the chairman himself started couching me on how to be a so-called ‘proper champion’. He taught me that sometimes, we have to make hard decisions, decisions that would affect the lives of thousands of people. The way he taught me this… was by making me choose between lives. The lives of those he said were against us, and the lives of my loved ones. I was eighteen. I was scared and afraid, so of course I did whatever he told me to do. I know that’s no excuse, though, because even as I got older and learned to start weighing options on my own, I didn’t think to oppose him. I didn’t think about the others he was hurting just like me when I could’ve gotten everyone together to take him down. I was so selfishly afraid of failing, of getting someone I cared about hurt, that I made myself hurt others who were just as loved by someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t horrible at first. The people I dealt with were indeed meddlesome in some way, usually being opposers of Dynamax or some neo-Plasma bloke. Everytime, Chairman Rose told me the same thing: scare them off, cause some damage, don’t get caught. But then there was Gloria. We paid her no mind, at first. She wasn’t popular with the media for the first few gyms, but suddenly, we started hearing rumors around the region. Gloria suddenly stopped Dynamaxing - even going as far to discard her Dynamax band right in the middle of a match. She gained popularity for that stunt, and she only grew more popular as the challenge went on. She started going into interviews speculating theories she’d gathered while researching Macro Cosmos itself. So of course she made the chairman uncomfortable. Now, normally, when a challenger grew too troublesome to deal with, the chairman would either send someone to formally disqualify them or have a gym leader go extra hard on them if he wanted it to be a little more on the down-low. But Gloria was much too strong even without Dynamax, and kicking her out without proper reason was too suspicious. So we monitored her, hoping it would go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. Not only was Gloria gaining media attention for her refusal to Dynamax, but she was also raising questions towards the ethics of both the league and Macro Cosmos. In one of her interviews, she discussed her thoughts on the cause of the Wyndon Riots - I’m sure you’re familiar with this - and how it was suspicious that a battle enhancement failure could become so catastrophic. Apparently, she had done research and found something… problematic. Apparently, that challenger had gone to Rose Tower on an invitation, and several ex-MC employees reported hearing an intense battle going on at the top. Later, the challenger was reported to have been acting strangely, clearly disoriented and pained by </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So Gloria figured that whatever happened in Rose Tower had led to the challenger’s deadly failure to Dynamax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gloria came up with a theory - a theory so groundbreaking that it would not only ruin the reputation of the Galar League and Macro Cosmos, but the reputation of battle enhancement strategies entirely. She hypothesized that if the emotional bond between trainer and pokemon is put under enough stress - through physical and emotional trauma to either party - during the use of a battle enhancer, then it could lead to high-risk health problems for an indeterminate amount of time, and also could lead to the ultimate failure of organ function in the human partner. If word got out about the terrible risks of battle enhancers - of Dynamax - the gym challenge would be dismantled forever. Competitive battling all around the world would plummet in popularity. Chairman Rose decided that he had to deal with Gloria before she could expose the truth about this. So he chose me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor ran a hand across his mouth. He had learned much of this already, but hearing it confirmed by Leon just made it a thousand times worse. After a few minutes of breathing, Leon continued on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to refuse. I tried to convince Rose that this didn’t need to happen - I wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do with something like this. But the chairman knows his way around people; he knows just the things to get you to follow his orders. So he told me about his most ambitious plan. He told me that he purposefully injured that challenger and her pokemon in order to sever the bond between them, and gave them a prototype band that I’m sure you recognized as the Vivamax band - the chairman’s initial attempt to replicate the powers he found in Eternatus when he first discovered the creature’s existence. He told me that it was his plan all along to start the riots in hopes of taking over the league, to take over the region once he gained enough power and control of everything. And… he told me all of this because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> how I felt about it - he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly what I lost in them. He told me that if I didn’t do this, then every life lost would have been in vain. So, I agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Rose told me that scaring her off wouldn’t be enough. He needed to make sure that someone as determined as her would have zero chance of exposing the truth. Up until this point, I had been scaring people who I had been convinced were bad people. This time, I actually sort of agreed with Gloria. And worse, Rose had no intention of letting her leave the Hammerlocke Wild Area alive. So he told me to make sure that she never reached the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she never did. But not because I killed her. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to take her life. So instead, I made a deal with her. I told her that I would help her escape the region, complete with a new identity and means to live, but on the condition that she never reveals what she learned during her challenge. Eventually, she agreed. I set her up with a Corviknight strong enough to fly across the ocean, and that was the last I saw of your sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let himself fall silent, waiting patiently for the boy’s reaction. Victor kept still, simply blinking in silence with shock progressively growing more visible on his face. He opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, only to close his mouth with that blank expression. Of course he was having trouble processing all of this. Leon gave him all the time he so obviously needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several minutes of silence, Victor finally steadied himself with a long intake of oxygen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why… Why didn’t you tell me? All this time, you had me worried that my sister was murdered in cold blood… and she’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> this whole time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone were to find out that I did disobey the chairman, I’d be as good as dead, myself. But looks like it doesn’t matter anymore, for me. If it alleviates some of the burden my family will have to bear due to my mistakes, then… it’s worth it for me. You deserved to be the one who heard it first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon turned his head to face the window, letting his eyes glaze over at the sight of pastel blue skies and fluffy white clouds. Victor sat in silence, simply staring down at his trembling hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s alive,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somewhere, Gloria is alive and okay. I’d always hoped and dreamed and now that I know she’s okay</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to know where she is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor jerked back into reality, seeing Leon still focused on the outside world. The man looked remarkably relaxed, now, his purple hair coating the pillow and resting on his toned shoulders as he simply stared out the window. The man really was beautiful, but Victor knew his heart would always belong to another. Leon was just his childhood crush, anyways - he’d gotten over it real fast once he learned that he was the one responsible for Gloria’s disappearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you mean… You’ll tell me where she is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s time,” Leon sighed, letting his head fall a little deeper into the warmth of the pillow, “to start making amends. Before it’s too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor blinked a few times. Surely this was a dream. He pinched his wrist just to wake himself up, only to feel the pain affirm tenfold that this was all real. He gasped, beginning to nod his head frantically. Leon let out a heavy exhale and pushed himself upright, wincing a bit at the pain in his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to find my things, though. I’ll need my phone if we want all the right details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor jumped to his feet, ready to run out the door and find the doctor, but he halted right in front of the door. His hand hovered over the knob. Leon watched in slight surprise as the youth looked over his shoulder at the man, giving a gentle smile. For once, it was truly sincere as it directed towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a right awful man, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I’ve been hearing that a lot, lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m glad to know that you aren’t as terrible as I thought you were. If you really can help me find my sister, then… I’ll know that you really are a person worth cheering for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me you plan on ditching our match?” Leon couldn’t help but tease a bit. “I may be injured, but the fight for the championship is most certainly still on. I don’t plan on losing everything without a little fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t dream of making it easy for you. But at least now, I can look forward to battling you with pure of heart intentions once more. So… thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon watched the youth slip out the door, his hurried footsteps echoing down the hall. He wondered how long it would take for consequences to finally catch up with him. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even by the end of the season. But it would come, and it would come with a vengeance. And this time, Leon was determined to make the right decision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor eventually </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> answer your call, though on the second attempt. He sounded pretty excited on the other side of the line, wherever was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Victor - I just wanted to check in with you. You know, see how you were doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m doing much better, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, that wasn’t a comforting answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Because I just ran into Hop a few minutes ago and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop?” Victor suddenly seemed a little less chipper. “Oh Arceus, how am I going to explain all of this to Hop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” some shuffling rubbed against the phone, “I’ll try and talk to him before the final match next week - hoping he’s still in town, of course. But, I’m actually with Leon right and we -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Leon</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, yes, that asshat. You’d kind of forgotten about him, to be honest. But now, all of the memories came flooding back, bringing with it a burning rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, uh, but it’s not what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ‘it’s not what I think’? He started all this garbage! Fucking, which hospital is he at? I’ll fucking beat his ass myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, wait - you don’t understand! I think there’s more going on here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you - okay, hold on. I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of nonsense he’s feeding you in there, but let me just say that he’s quite literally the</span>
  <em>
    <span> worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> human being. Ever. In all of ever. The amount of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ponyta-shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s put me through - uhg, I can’t even explain it! So I’ll just say that I don’t really think there’s more going on here than </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor pauses, quite possibly choosing his words carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t think he’s lying about this - I can’t tell you, but… he told me something that changes almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> I thought about him, and about the league. I’ll tell you, and I’ll tell Hop, too, but… I can’t right now. Not over the phone, or in public.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grumble a bit, rubbing your temple as you glance around the street. More people are starting to walk around now, considering that it should be a busy Monday morning but </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>because of yesterday’s region-wide shitshow. Victor’s probably right about that, at least - if it’s enough to completely change Victor’s mind of the situation, then it would be best to discuss everything in a more private setting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Alright, fine. Only because I trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Victor. But please try to talk to Hop sometime soon. He really looked some sort of way when I saw him a while ago. You both seem so close… I think I speak for everybody when I say that we’d hate to see you both drift apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’ll talk to him. But for now, I have see this through by myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Please be safe, Victor - watch yourself. If something happens or you get even the smallest hint of suspicion, give me a call and I’ll be right there, alright? I mean, I know you’re a handful on the battlefield, but… I know for a fact that pokemon battle strategy doesn’t always work so well between humans. Be careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ended the call, and you slumped a bit further into your seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rose couldn’t remember the last time Oleana had looked quite so upset. Sure, he had seen her bursting with anger a number of times, but this was different. No, as she sat across the square wooden table, Rose could very well see her bloodshot eyes filled with sleeplessness and fear. No makeup, either, though the woman hardly needed it. Her normally well-managed blonde hair was thrown into a lazy bun - the look alone was almost enough to throw the ex-chairman into a wave of memories. Despite her coldness, Rose couldn’t help but feel an annoying prick of fondness for the woman. But he couldn’t really blame himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful, intelligent - but most importantly, devoted.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This was only affirmed tenfold when the younger woman lifted her sorry eyes up to her boss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chairman -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need for formalities, Oleana,” the man waved a hand. Well, as best he could with those handcuffs on. “We’re alone, for now. There is nothing for us to hide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wave of relief washed through her body. She kept her hands in her lap, letting out an exhausted sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have taken more precautions. If only I had been more diligent in researching every way that Eternatus controlled energy that none of this would have happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is no sense in regretting the past. But you must admit, Oleana - this was a possibility that you foresaw, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, a few locks of hair falling over her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that’s correct. But still, it all seemed so possible… I was so close to finally achieving your deepest wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose hummed, folding his hands over one another atop the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be remembered forever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She suddenly let out a girlish giggle, turning to the side to hide a blooming smile. “It’s funny. I still remember the day you told me so clearly. You visited my college laboratory, every day for fourteen days… And that last day I finally worked up the courage to voice my admiration for your accomplishments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose gave a gentle smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How amusing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, I recall as well. I remember being drawn to your interesting theories on Wishing Stars and Dynamax, and couldn’t help but think of all the ways Galar could truly flourish with the televised use of our region’s ancient battle enhancement technique. I wanted to see what someone like you could do with a bigger budget. A college internship was no place for an amazing mind such as yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oleana couldn’t conceal her rising blush, a sight that no-one but Rose had ever seen before. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t appreciate it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chairma - Ah…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>… I wanted to tell you, before the investigation and trials start… that I still haven’t changed from the person I was before. This entire time, I’ve admired your ideas, and tried my best to make sure that every step you took towards your goals were as well-calculated and efficient as possible. I admit, I have made many mistakes along the way, but I don’t believe that I regret them, anymore. Everything I’ve done… has been with you in mind, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose tried to keep his composure. He was doing well, as far as he was concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always were an overachiever, Oleana. I must say, I’m flattered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The compliment spurred a bigger wave of confidence in the woman, visible in the way she brightened up a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted nothing more than to see you finally achieve your greatest wish. You know that my loyalty has always been to you. From the very beginning - from the VMax experiments, and Eternatus - all the way to this very moment. I would do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> for your validation, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose met her eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Time for the Leap of Faith.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even go as far as to risk destroying the entire Galar region?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Oleana nodded, consumed by her emotion, “without hesitation. You don’t even have to ask me. Haven’t I proven that, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than you know, Oleana.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches as the woman calms herself down a bit, trying her best to seem less lovesick as he patiently waits for her to speak. It would be best if he let her own emotions continue forward with as few interruptions as possible. One can never be too careful with these silly sorts of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am terribly sorry, though,” she says at last, her smile starting to fade to her normal, indifferent expression, “that my carelessness has gotten you here. But… at least we will face this together, right sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose almost laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you trust me, Oleana?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than anything, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you have nothing more to fear, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~ END OF ACT THREE ~</p><p>Oh ho ho! Thank you all so much for reading! Now, I'll still be online on both AO3 and Tumblr (mostly Tumblr), so while I'm on break, feel free to drop on by and chat or leave comments or whatever! For now, the break will last about one week, but if I decide I need more time, I'll be posting updates and stuff on my Tumblr so keep an eye out over there if you wanna keep posted. I need to get some more chapters written out for Act 3, which is the most involved and plot-heavy of all the acts, so we'll see how things go;;;; I may also be writing some little one-shots or shorter fics during my break, as well, so yeah! Thanks again you guys for sticking it out and keeping up with TDW - it means the world to me that people actually like this dumpster-fire fanfic!</p><p>So, see you guys in 2021! Happy Holidays~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. How Do You Like Your Coffee? I Like Mine With Some Creamer and the Tears of Troubled Teen Angst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>~ ACT 3 ~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Okay, so it’s been about two weeks since the Darkest Day part 2, and it’s been a week since you returned to Motostoke to relax during the off-season. Let me run you through a few things that have happened since.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Champion Cup Finals ended just as you hoped they would. You had screamed so hard when Victor’s Inteleon landed the final blow against Leon’s Charizard - so hard that tears streamed down your cheeks from the tension in your body. The boy was just as humble as ever, giving soft smiles and a couple timid waves to the flashing lights and applauding fans as he was awarded the status as the new reigning champion of the Galar region. You also gave him a bone-crushing hug when you finally were able to speak with him after the eventual crowning ceremony a few days later. It was fun, much to your surprise. Everyone all dressed up in formal clothes with drinks all around - you weren’t there long enough to really talk with anybody other than Victor. Probably the only bad part about the night was how you constantly would look over your shoulder with a strange gut feeling, only to just catch sight of Leon in the back of the crowd, watching you. You ignored that part, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And since, things have been remarkably calm. With the league shut down at the moment due to the whole Darkest Day conspiracy deal, you (as well as the other gym leaders) were given permission to shut down your stadiums until further notice. A few of the others, like Nessa and Milo, have been occasionally opening their gym to host small training opportunities for up-and-coming trainers. It was good PR for the league, at least. You thought about doing some, yourself, but figured that you deserved a little vacation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which brings us here. You, in your bedroom, snoozing away underneath the covers, partially listening to whatever internet show you had been watching earlier that morning. With the league being indefinitely out-of-order, you technically had no duties to attend to, and after all the shit you endured this season, you were ready to abuse that power a bit. So you’d hardly left your apartment at all in the week since the crowning ceremony, and you were determined to keep it that way for just a while longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even in your sleep, a bit of anxiety continues to prick at your gut. The massive investigation into the league and Macro Cosmos has been going on for a week already, and yet you have yet to be called in for questioning. Apparently, it’s the same for all the other gym leaders. You thought about going in to just tell the authorities what you knew without prompt, but Piers told you to hold back until you were contacted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You oughta be relaxin’,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had said to you over the phone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Ain’t no use in runnin’ from one fight into another, so give it some time before ya throw yourself into some legal nonsense.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had a point - you were tired, and the idea of endless interviews, interrogations, and constant public attention didn’t exactly seem ideal. Fuck that shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there’s the elephant in the room: Leon. You’d both held notably tight grimacies towards each other since the, um, “incident” in the infirmary. Countless times the two of you would just glare at each other from opposite sides of whatever room you found yourselves in, the world oblivious to the telepathic shouting match the two of you constantly engaged in. The crowning ceremony was almost too much for you; the way he wore his perfectly tailored suit with a gold silk tie, the way his hair was elegantly braided and draped over his left shoulder, the way he smiled so brilliantly towards everyone else only to frown at you. You almost thought to dare a sucker punch when the two of you happened to brush shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You just didn’t get it. He lost his crown, and yet continues on as if that didn’t bother him. He practically praised Victor the whole night long, on and off the stage. Even more curious, Victor seemed as comfortable around Leon as he did when you first met the boys. Last time you checked, Victor </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> Leon, just like you. Was Victor just acting nice for the cameras? Or had Leon told Victor something that completely changed everything about how they viewed each other? Why hasn’t anyone told you yet? If Leon really did care so much about you, why wasn’t he approaching you with the answers you obviously wanted? All of it infuriated you, adding fuel to the destructive flames inside your core with every passing minute. To you, Leon was nothing more than a coward, no doubt keeping his lips sealed until the truth reveals itself. Oh boy, you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> this guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But hey, this is your vacation. No time to waste by giving that man free rent in your mind. No, you let your thoughts zero in on the sound of your show playing on your TV in the background, waiting for the moment you eventually fall back asleep. And with time, you do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan pouted his lips, chin propped up on his only remaining memory-foam pillow while he rested on his bed. He could hear Flygon’s distinct snores from behind him; the little bastard had once again stolen almost every last pillow in the entire house. He looked over his bare shoulder just in time to see the green dragon-type sprawl out on his back, nuzzling his mound of various hoarded pillows. He shook his head a bit and decided to just let the beast be. So he returned to his current big predicament, which had something to do with the way he had been staring down your contact in his phone for the past ten minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that he knew Piers was his rival, he knew that there would be a huge difference in styles of courting that you would be experiencing. Raihan didn’t know all that much about Piers’ romantic life, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that most of the time, the musician would simply rely on luck and the occasional burst of confidence he got from performing shows to snag maybe a one-night-stand. It was safe to say that Piers would be a bit more shy when it came to expressing the more mushy stuff, and would wait for an opportunity to arise before making a move. Raihan sported a much more, let’s just say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>direct</span>
  </em>
  <span> approach. Namely walking up to the hottest chick in the club, demonstrate reckless confidence by asking for a dance or offering a drink, pull a few flirty moves, and usually things would end happily for everybody. But somehow, that didn’t seem like the best approach for you. You were playful with him, sure, but he wanted to prove that he was serious. Maybe something more traditional would work in his favor, as means to better contrast against Piers’ likely spontaneous opportunism. He decided to just up and ask you out on a date.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he froze up, index finger just hovering over the call button. Maybe this was a mistake. He had thought he’d found true love once before, and it gave him a terrible wound deep in his heart. One would think that he’d learn his lesson and just move on from you. And yet, the idea of actually being in love was so heavenly in his mind; the thought of coming home to find you there, ready to pepper him with welcome-home kisses, eager to eat whatever meal he learned just for you, excited to drag him into the bedroom for an evening of mischief. Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself. He might not even really be in love, and here he was, imagining some domestic fantasy of someone he didn’t entirely understand. Perhaps he just wanted to be in love, and you happened to be the most exciting option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe he really is in love, though. Then there’s a whole new problem he didn’t really want to think about: you realizing that you didn’t feel the same. There is a decent chance that you just see him as a friend. He could take you on date after date after date, only to hear that you end up choosing Piers over him. Then what would he do? Would he be able to manage seeing someone he had fallen so deeply in love with in the arms of someone he’d considered a friend? There would be nothing there for him to hate, then. He wouldn’t be able to blame either person for the pursuit of happiness; he would have to deal with his own broken heart in the terrible, voiceless realm of “I’m fine”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, what to do? Risk another heartbreak, or spend forever having “what-ifs”? Take action or keep his distance? He’d spiraled through those sorts of thoughts for a while longer before a memory suddenly came to life in the back of his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ll get yourself killed doing something as foolish as that, boy,” the elderly man shook his head, giving a harsh tug on the final bit of bandage to be wrapped around the child’s arm. “It was fortunate that Altaria was able to rescue you in time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan heard his old man’s Altaria coo from behind him, pausing her preening for a moment to peck the boy’s knee as if also reprimanding him. He pouted further, keeping his eyes focused on the grass below his boots. The man finished bandaging Raihan’s upper arm, turning around to grab his walking stick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You lack conviction. That is your problem.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan gasped, looking up to the man before him. Despite already being over five and a half feet tall, the boy still had to look up at the elderly man.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?” the boy dared to counter. “What do you mean, ‘I lack conviction’? I’ve done everything you said and then some, old man! It’s not my fault that dragon-types don’t like me!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The old man stroked his beard, shaking his head at the boy. The youth was most definitely a handful, even in the best of times. Even Raihan himself knew that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t just mean with dragon-types, boy. You lack certainty in yourself in every way. Even if you step up to face a challenge, you will never succeed if your knees are trembling. You will fall every time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you ever get tired of talking in cryptic nonsense?” the boy sighed, trying to diffuse his rising anger. “Why can’t you just straight up tell me that I’m not good enough for this, huh? You regret choosing me - </span>
  </em>
  <span>admit it</span>
  <em>
    <span>.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man turned around. Raihan wondered if he had struck a chord with the man, but then again, he always looked annoyed with the lad. No wonder the youth deduced what he had. Altaria made a low humming noise before hopping over to the side of her owner, giving Raihan an equally irritated glare.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you ever gain conviction, you won’t have regret.” The man waved a hand, turning to the side to head back down the hill. Raihan threw his head back with a groan, but otherwise joined the elder dragon tamer with a scowl on his face. “Live your life thinking that you aren’t good enough, and you will never be. Dragon-types can sense hesitation from a mile away - which I’m sure you discovered today when you went to greet that young Axew. Just as you would in battle, you must walk through your life with an air of confidence, or else you will be devoured by even the most timid of worms.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is that a fancy way of saying that I’ll get my ass beat?” Raihan smirked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The old man sighed again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You would </span>
  </em>
  <span>also</span>
  <em>
    <span> benefit from learning to present yourself in a more professional manner. If you want to be a dragon tamer, you must act like one. Your past should only serve to bring you wisdom; you must never let it be a limitation.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Raihan reluctantly nodded at that. The old man had told him this before. The past is the past, blah blah blah, some cryptic nonsense that requires way too many brain cells to really understand. But ever since the boy had come under the care of the elder dragon tamer, he found that his ignorance of knowledge was no longer acceptable like it had been in his previous foster homes. The kid knew he still had his work cut out for him if he was going to achieve his ambitious goals.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So… what do I do? Fake it ‘til I make it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I suppose that is a way to phrase it, but there is more to it than just false confidence. You must convince yourself that you have what it takes to make it through a challenge.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So pretend that I’m the best?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No?!” Raihan slightly raised his voice, earning an angry peck from Altaria once more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No. Confidence is a delicate feeling. Should it be lacking, you will always be hiding in the shadows of others - you will be spineless and pathetic. Should it be superfluous, you will no doubt be struck down by another man’s spite - you will be vain and foolish. What you must aim to find, Raihan, is balance. You must trust your abilities and skill wholeheartedly, but must also be willing to learn from mistakes and ask for help. That is what makes a great dragon tamer, what makes a great pokemon trainer, and what makes a great person. Should you truly believe yourself to be all those things, then you may ask if I regret choosing you to be my heir.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The boy nodded. His hand grazed the bandages of his arm, still feeling the pain having it quite nearly ripped off. He figured that most kids would quit right after the first scratch. But Raihan knew better than to just give up. That was the thing about street rats - they really don’t know how to stop fighting for life. Maybe that’s why the old man took the boy in.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan huffed, wiping away tears. All these years later and he’s still getting teary eyed about the old man. A part of him wanted to talk to Leon for a moment once the memory passed, but he decided against it. The champion had been acting strangely since the gym season started, and had been distant from Raihan for most of it. Raihan figured that Leon was still mad over their argument regarding you, so he shook that thought away. The dragon tamer would talk to him eventually, but not right now. No, he had far less intimidating things to worry about. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you ever gain conviction, you won’t have regret.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan nodded those words, hearing them echo around his mind as he took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Be confident, and you won’t have regrets. Just… fuck it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hit the call button. The phone rang a couple of times before he heard your tired voice on the other end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swooned a bit at the cuteness of your tired yawn. He wished he could hear it in person, but he tucked that thought away before it spiraled out of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, [Y/n]! Sorry - sounds like I woke you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all good,” you mumble. “What can I do you for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… I was thinking of our lovely heart-to-heart during the finals, and thought I’d just take a leap of faith and ask how you felt about flowers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently this caught you off-guard, because he hears some rustling of bedsheets amid your giggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flowers? You wanna get me flowers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna spoil the surprise - I just wanted to know if you liked flowers or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah. They’re pretty and smell nice. I like flowers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Then in that case…” he pushed himself up to his knees, running a hand through his locks as he mentally got himself ready. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Confidence, chicks dig confidence…</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Would you be interested in accompanying me to the Hammerlocke Conservatory this Saturday evening? It’s not normally open to the public past six, but a friend of mine who works there owes me a favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were silent for a moment. Raihan bit his lip as he willed himself to control his nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I…” you chuckled a little, “... I didn’t see that coming from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean? What kind of guy do you take me for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno - I kinda figured that you were more of a, y’know, cut-to-the-chase kind of guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan shrugged. Yeah, he had that impression on most people. Didn’t hurt to just play along with it, most of the time. But this was a special case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You burst into laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no - I really want to see how this goes, actually. I’d love to go with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great!” Raihan quickly pulled back, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, uh… Yeah, that’s great. I think you’d really like it. Beautiful scenery for a beautiful princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, O Mighty Dragon Tamer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arceus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, this man would have you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. This was the long game, and Raihan was playing to win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll text you the details then. It’s a date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan’s excited grin spread from ear to ear. Perhaps there was some hope left for his love life, after all. The only problem now was how to speed up time so that he could see you sooner. But he remained patient. Only the foolish grow bored waiting for the fruit of their labors to grow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor poured himself a cup of leppa berry tea. He tried to ignore the heaviness of his eyelids as he set the cup aside to steep, instead opting to lean against the kitchen counter and let his eyes wander about his childhood home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all looked pretty much the same as far as he was concerned; the same yellow and pink floral wallpaper, the same cherry red hardwood floors (complete with squeaky stairs up to the bedrooms), the same dusty brown furniture that was hardly used - even the storefront portion of the house was entirely the unchanged. Everything still smelled like a menagerie of flowers, soft fragrant scents all mixing together from nearly a hundred different species. He was surprised how much he missed it all. It was home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The distant ring of the front bell went off, catching Victor’s attention. He decided that the tea could wait and wandered up to the storefront of the house to see who in the world wanted to buy flowers at five o’clock in the evening. But the moment he rounded the corner and peeked out into the living-room-turned-flower-shop, he froze up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There stood Hop, looking suddenly so tall when standing beside a cart of white carnations, hands behind his head as he met Victor’s widened eyes. Both stood there for a number of seconds before Victor finally found the courage to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you’re here,” he gasped, shyly stepping into the slightly chilly room. Hop nodded, passing one more glance at the flowers as Victor ran through every set of words imaginable to explain himself. “Hop, I -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” the taller boy sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I forgive you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do? Just like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop shrugged. “I mean, I’m still mad. But I figured that walking around all the time being angry at everyone probably wouldn’t make me all that great, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have every right to be angry,” Victor slowly made his way around the counter. “I know how it feels to have people you thought you trusted suddenly seem so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop nodded again. As much as Victor wanted his friend to look at him, he didn’t know if he could stand that terribly serious expression that Hop was wearing. It didn’t suit the cheery lad, that’s for certain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But still,” the fair-skinned boy halted beside a fridge of assorted lilies, “that doesn’t make everything better. I should have told you - and I really wanted to. But Leon and I agreed that we didn’t want to ruin your gym challenge finding out something so terrible. A-and I didn’t even want to, either. I really wanted this summer to be spent hanging out with you and, y’know, just try to have fun for once. But I got so caught up in finding out what happened to Gloria that I totally forgot about being with the person I already have.” Victor was full on crying at this point, but Hop made no detectable reaction. “And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, I went and stole your dream right out from under you. Even after I told you I wasn’t interested in being champion, I got carried away. And I’m sorry, Hop - I’m not sorry that you found out, and I’m not sorry that you’re upset with me. I’m upset that I couldn’t be the person you really deserved to admire. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody</span>
  </em>
  <span> deserves you, Hop, because you’re such a genuinely nice person and always want to be the person everyone wants you to be when you’re absolutely perfect just like this. So I’m sorry. Really, truly, incredibly sorry. I understand if you hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room fell silent, albeit for Victor’s muffled sniffs. Hop seemed entirely fixated on the flowers in front of him - for a moment, Victor began to wonder if Hop had even been listening. A sorry expression written all over his face, he palmed away the tears from his cheeks and made an attempt to look less pathetic. He had half the mind to just walk away when he saw Hop’s arm lift from his side. The boy watched with wide eyes as his best friend delicately plucked one of the white carnations from a basket, giving it a quick inspection. Fresh, fragrant, simple. The boy extended it to Victor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Victor could do was blink and hope that his face wasn’t as red as it felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like you to go around making stupid assumptions like that, mate. Of course I don’t hate you.” Victor hesitantly took the flower from Hop’s hand, trying to fathom what in the world was happening. “Lee and I already had a talk about everything. In the end, I made him promise that we wouldn’t keep crazy secrets like that from each other. So that’s why I’m asking if you and I can make the same promise to each other, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor looked at the flower, then back up to Hop. Then back down the flower. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He… he doesn’t really mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>that</span>
  <em>
    <span>, does he?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, um… n-no more secrets?” he asked tentatively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop gave a weak smile, stepping towards his friend innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hop’s shoulders shot up to his ears, his tanned face becoming remarkably red. Victor suddenly felt his stomach drop deep inside him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, maybe I misread the situation…</span>
  </em>
  <span> But slowly, Hop pulled himself together, attempting to hide his blush by looking off to the side and scratching his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-ah-ha…” the taller boy gave a nervous chuckle, “I, uh… s-somehow I imagined that I’d react a bit cooler than that, ha ha…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor was about to smile, only for his mind to dissolve further into static nonsense. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s thought about this before?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-so,” Hop’s voice pulled him out of his daze, “um… So do I. Like you. I mean - as in - I like you too, uh… Gee, this is harder than they make it look on the telly, um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor burst into laughter, nodding his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They most certainly do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair let all the intensity of the air fade away, easing their hearts into the comforting presence of one another. It was nice not to have secrets anymore. Hop finally eased his chuckles, running a hand across the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, uh, don’t worry about the whole champion thing. I think… I think that I should learn to find my own path rather than chasing after Lee all the time.  Don’t get me wrong, I still wanna be your rival, but… I don’t know. Maybe there’s something better for me out in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s a great idea, Hop. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even all the way in Wyndon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ditch all my matches if you want me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no!” Hop exclaimed. “If you don’t go to any of your matches, how am I supposed to cheer you on?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you have a point there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another silence washed into the room. While it was comfortable, there was still an inch of anxiety left in Victor’s stomach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No more secrets</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he affirmed in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to the Unova region tomorrow,” he forced the words out, earning a shocked look from Hop. “Leon says that she’s somewhere in a town called Lacunosa under a new identity. I want to see if I can find her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller boy, while initially shocked, eventually calmed down and gave a supportive smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. This is important to you, so I’m not upset. Take all the time you need there, Victor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy smiled. A small bud of hopefulness took root in his chest, even more so as he gazed lovingly down at the white carnation that had been bestowed upon him. Things would be different from here on out. And hopefully, it would be the good kind of different.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, here's the deal!</p><p>This story is killing my brain, but I'm still working on it! It's just,,, in WIP Purgatory,,,,</p><p>So, from here on out, there's no longer a schedule for this story. It's just whenever I write a chapter and proof it. Which is literally the worst for me. But I'm not really digging the idea of being on a longer hiatus right now. So, uh, yeah.</p><p>Hope you liked the chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. An Old-Fashion DATE?? Full of FLUFF?!?! In MY fanfiction?!?!?!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>also known as "The Author Shamelessly Writes the World's Most Self-Indulgent Self-Insert Date with a Much Too Tall Gentlemen for Roughly 3k Words"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With the arrival of Saturday afternoon came a new bundle of anxiety. At least this time, you were excited to be so nervous. After all, it was your first official date for the first time in several years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, you got yourself all dressed up in something you felt he would appreciate: an A-line black dress that had navy blue roses decorating the skirt, a pair of three-inch black pumps, a simple but elegant pearl necklace, and styled your hair into a more refined style. You figured that something as fancy as a date at a conservatory would call for a more posh aesthetic without being entirely overbearing. It was cute, but adult. Reserved, but playful. In a way, it seemed to fit what you imagined the dragon tamer had in mind for the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Raihan said the two of you would be taking the train to the conservatory, you nearly cried from joy. Too much flying for you, as of late, and the idea of having to fly anytime soon gave you way too much anxiety. But it would be hard to soar above the clouds when dressed so nicely, so Raihan said he would fly to Motostoke and meet you at your apartment, where the two of you would ride the train to Hammerlocke to begin the evening. When you opened the door to see him, you were glad to have made the decision to dress the way you did, as it damn-near matched Raihan’s outfit. He kept it simple, a neatly-ironed navy blue button-up, a basic black silk tie, ironed black trousers, and (shockingly) no headband-beanie-thing to be found. He caught your pouting face and chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured you’d want a chance to see me in a different light,” he brushed away some of the locks that rested on one side of his face. Much of his hair was pulled back into a casual topknot, but the front dreads didn’t quite make it that far, draping over his forehead and along the shaved sides of his head. “I usually wouldn’t wear my headband for something like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a headband. Noted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it, though,” you laugh, taking his arm to wrap your own around, “it still fits you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled down at you, easy blue eyes shining with gentle emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll remember that next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You made it to the train station, where thankfully most people were winding down for the evening and hardly noticed two celebrities strolling through their midsts. You figured that the people of Motostoke weren’t used to seeing the gym leaders in anything but their uniforms, unlike the people in Wyndon, so you and Raihan were thankfully able to walk down the streets unbothered. In fact, the moment people saw you two walking across the way, they averted their eyes, trying a bit too hard to seem casual. That didn’t get much more thought from you, though, as you were much more focused on the incredibly tall glass of Voss water walking alongside you. You were about to pay for a ticket when the man pulled you aside, using his own money to purchase a first-class ticket instead of the cheaper, normal seating. You wanted to argue, but he just gave you a grin and patted your head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s on me, tonight,” he beamed. “You just focus on being cute and having fun, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a stupid blush on your face, you nodded and let him guide you to the fancy segment of the train. The two of you sat in the same booth, watching the world blur together outside in a mixture of pinks and oranges while you talked about nothing in particular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of you found your way towards the university side of the city, which contained a far younger population as well as some of the more traditional architecture from perhaps centuries ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lot of people don’t realize just how old this city is,” Raihan mused from your side. “Probably the oldest building would be Hammerlocke Castle, one only two remaining ones from </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> back before the Galar region united under one monarchy. Rumor has it that one king was convinced that the secret to eternal life was by learning all there was to know about everything in the universe. That led to the creation of the Royal Vault - now called just the Hammerlocke Vault - which then led to the creation and subsequent destruction of the original library just by the castle. We rebuilt it, of course, but all the information of the original library was lost forever. Everything that remains of that king’s crazed search for immortality resides in the Vault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing he never did figure it out, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he did - it’s totally me. I’m actually several centuries old and probably a vampire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cackled, Raihan passing you an amused grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> a vampire? You’re not sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” with an extra pop on the ‘p’. You playfully bumped his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you don’t look a day over a hundred, Good King Raihan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span> King Raihan to you, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rolled your eyes and allowed the man to guide you towards one of the further buildings on the university campus - a large glass enclosure brimming with all sorts of colors, all just barely visible through the thick foliage inside. You grinned eagerly as Raihan unlocked the door of the stone building in front of it, stepping aside for you to walk in first like the gentleman he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room (a lobby, perhaps) itself was quite fancy, the smell of flowers already gracing your senses. It seemed to follow the red and blue theming as the rest of the city, along with a very refined interior design. Raihan gently tugged you along, stepping around the counter and down a hallway. When he finally reached the door at the end, he gave you a charming wink that nearly had you swooning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I present to you one of my favorite historical spots - Rosalyn’s Garden.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened, a refreshing gust of AC blasting you both momentarily, only to reveal a most welcome sight. The greenhouse was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gigantic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, containing giant lattice arches that held tangling vines that bloomed with flowers. Bushes of flowers, trees of flowers, vines of flowers - flowers were quite literally surrounding you at all angles. You stepped inside, childish excitement filling your core as you ran to inspect a pair of happy-looking peonies. You could hear Raihan chuckling from behind, his shoes crunching against the cobblestone floor while you attempted to smell every single flower you saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a story here that if you find yourself overwhelmed with life or school or whatever, just spending a few minutes here will completely revive your body. The flowers grown here are said to have healing properties, though it’s mostly just a legend. I’ve stumbled here a bunch of times back when I attended college, and I definitely can say that I believe it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You lifted your chin to inspect an arch, one draped in what seemed to be jasmine flowers. A few of the vines hung low enough for your fingertips to caress, much to your delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you went to the university here? I guess being in the league really </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> have its perks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I came here because my old man wanted me to. The league tried to talk me out of it, but I ended up applying and attending, anyway. Definitely was worth it, even though I now have a habit of lecturing everybody on ancient history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s informative,” you pass him a smile from over your shoulder, much to his delight. “I almost went to one of the community colleges back home, but I ended up getting the offer to train under Kabu-sensei, and things moved on from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan’s footsteps got a little closer, so you decided to be a bit playful and pretended to get distracted by a beautiful patch of mums a few arches away. Raihan watched in the distance, hands deep in his pockets as you knelt down to get a closer look. Sweet, pastel shades of dusty pink and yellow smiled back at you. A light mist was falling from overhead, tickling your eyelashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright. I mean, most trainers don’t, so it’s no biggie. I’m sure you thrive well enough without having nights of sobbing over a dissertation while mixing Red Bull with a four-shot espresso.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laugh, standing up to your feet to see some hibiscus along the walls before you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, definitely not interested in any of that. I had my fair share of sleepless nights during marching band, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, whoa, whoa - </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were in </span>
  <em>
    <span>band</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, totally,” you peeked over your shoulder to see him stop in his tracks. He’s trying to get closer again, judging by the deviously innocent smirk on his face at the moment. “Third chair flute on the field, second chair trombone in the classroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, isn’t trombone the slidey one? Those don’t seem similar at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You disappeared behind another wall of flowers. You couldn’t even label any of these - they were just pretty, wild, exotic looking bursts of color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a matter of fact, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the slidey one. But I liked playing all the harmonies during concert season, and sitting in a room with killer acoustics next to a bunch of low brass players was always the best. So, I picked up the trombone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why’d you play flute during the marching season?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to peek around the wall to find you, but you ducked under a veil of bougainvillea just in time. You were sure he could hear you giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d been playing the flute for years, actually. Just kind of something I picked up as a kid and figured that I’d play it during the field season. Mostly ‘cause I didn’t want to do PE. But the flute’s way easier to carry than a brass instrument, that’s for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I bet. Damn...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you almost thought to look over at wherever his voice came from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Just thinking about my severe disadvantage in this whole love triangle right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed, following the trail a little deeper to find some patches of honeysuckle. You plucked off a couple and trotted over to where you last saw Raihan. He smiled at the return of your presence, but gave a curious eyebrow flick when you popped the end of one into your mouth and handed him the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honeysuckles have super sweet nectar. You can taste it and it won’t kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you know this </span>
  <em>
    <span>because...</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he laughed, still taking the flower from your hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honeysuckle grows all over the place back home. Me and my friend used to do this all the time when we were kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He obliged, mimicking your action as you spun away and wandered off yet again. You later disposed of your now dry flower and found a beautiful display of ruby red roses. They gleamed with a light sheen of mist, seeming incredibly imposing against the sea of pastels with how red they were. Their powerful scent dominated the entire aisle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, let me get this straight: you’re a beautiful, musically-talented pokemon trainer from a distant region who can handle my monologuing about things most people don’t care about. I think you’re</span>
  <em>
    <span> trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to bewitch me at this point, princess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, no doubt watching you slink around one of the two tall trees of wisteria blossoms. But you noticed, however, that his footsteps were not getting closer to you. No, they were walking off towards the deeper patches of the greenhouse, slowly leading him towards a lane you had yet to visit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s actually another legend about this place that I really like,” his voice effortlessly reached your ears, even from a good ways away. “According to legend, this campus was once a sprawling meadow of flowers, far as the eye can see. It was sacred to the dragons that lived near the kingdom, however, so no human was ever able to safely visit the meadow. But then a maiden named Rosalyn dared to enter, armed with only her determination and a gentle voice. She was said to have met a very powerful dragon in the meadow’s heart, and pleaded with the beast to let her take a few flowers to her sick lover. Enchanted by her beauty, he allowed it, and the woman went back to the kingdom with all of her flowers. From then on, only she was allowed safe entry into the meadow. Eventually, the dragon fell deeply in love with Rosalyn, and eventually took her as his wife when her lover died. The kingdom, however, thought that the fair maiden was taken by force. They went out to slay the dragon, and in the fighting, both the dragon and Rosalyn lost their lives in the heart of the meadow they so adored. It is said that they enriched the plantlife with their shared blood, thereby blessing everyone who encounters the plants to feel happy and lively.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked around, suddenly feeling entirely overwhelmed with awe at that realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, wait, you mean that these are </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> flowers from that meadow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to the legend, yeah. A lot of people don’t believe it, but I do. Ancient legends are kind of my thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hummed as you gently took hold of a fallen wisteria blossom. After a few moments of smelling and admiring, you’d noticed that Raihan had fallen silent. So, you tossed the flower into a bush and decided to look for him. The swirling scent of flowers, the gentle mist that now took to the air, the nipping breeze of cold air - the dreaminess of it all was sort of getting to your head. Eventually, you duck under another veil of jasmine flowers and find Raihan. He glanced over to smile at you. You averted your attention to a rather bold-colored moonflower near your head. You watched through your periphery as the man walked a little deeper in before eventually sitting on a white stone bench just below a blooming magnolia tree, eyes fixated entirely on your every movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your pulse raced with every second he spent watching you, clearly finding himself so enthralled with your every breath. While your little game of chase was fun, you found yourself discreetly inching closer and closer to where he resided, all under the guise of finding more interesting plant life in the aisle. He remained silent. As did you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon you were just a couple feet away, fingers just ghosting the delicate petals of a light blue hydrangea. It was hard to really admire its beauty, now that you were so close to Raihan’s gentle watching eyes. You glanced over to him. It really was a shame; here you are in such a gorgeous room of nature, and yet the most beautiful thing in the room is </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You look at the way his skin just barely glistens under the soft fluorescent lighting up above, the way his muscles move so secretly underneath the fabric of his shirt, the way his eyes light up whenever you so much as twitch. It isn’t long before you’ve wandered to the bench, carefully holding your skirt under your thighs as you slide next to him. He turns to face you, and immediately you feel just how warm he is just by that. He reaches up to cup your cheek, holding you as if you were made of the most delicate of porcelain. You can just feel all the love pouring from his heart and out through his eyes in the way he looks down at you; never has someone looked into your eyes with such pure-of-heart adoration before. A part of you wondered who else had seen this look in his eyes, this rare and silent proclamation of devotion that would have never been expected from someone like him. It made you wonder even further about what he saw in you to make him look the way he does right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know you probably shouldn’t, but you do; you let him close the distance between the two of you, losing yourself in the gentility of his kiss. Much to your surprise, there wasn’t a possessiveness there like you would have expected. It’s almost princely, innocent and pure, the way he’s only holding your cheek as he deepens the kiss just a little more. Not so firm and desperate as Piers, but significantly more soft and dreamlike. A couple breathless moments pass the two of you before he pulls back just a bit, baring those deep blue eyes into your soul once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, suddenly looking so desperate to have more of you. “I like you - I love you - I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> love with you - everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as you feel that pounding emotion racing through your own heart, you take a moment to really remind yourself of the situation. You can say those words back now, but wouldn’t you do the same if you were with Piers, right now? No matter the answer, you wanted to make the right decision -  you </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to take things slow before you say something so important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really like you, Raihan,” you whisper back in kind. “But I want to hold back just a little longer from fully accepting your confession. I want to make sure that I give you both the chance to be honest with me, and I want to know for certain who I really want to be with… I hope that’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave you a gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it is, princess. I would wait for a million years if it was for you. But… can I at least kiss you one more time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nod, already leaning a bit more into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amid the spiraling breezes of cold that preserves the flowers, you two radiated a joined warmth that you weren’t sure you’d ever experience with anyone else. Soft. Secure. Patient. You don’t think you have ever been quite so relaxed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piers stepped outside, trying to get a decent ways away from the ruckus jammed up by his bandmates. He plopped onto the curb, wiping some of the sweat from his face as he answered the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, what? You don’t like it when I call you?” Raihan’s voice chimed into life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Piers groaned, “‘specially when you call me durin’ my rehearsals. I don’t have time to listen to you rant about dumb shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay. Guess I </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you about the super amazing date I had with [Y/n] today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers suddenly straightened up, pulling the phone a little closer to his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup! I asked her on a date, she agreed, we kissed - it was great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers frowned, shoving his fringe out of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what? I’ve already kissed her </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drunk kissing doesn’t count. I’m talking a consensual, level-headed smooch. Probably best to just take the loss now, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers almost let himself fall back in a huff, only to feel a slight tinge of hope rise up in his gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you ain’t datin’ yet, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan was silent for a moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jackpot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Piers grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then like hell I’m quittin’ any time soon. ‘Til the day she turns me down completely, I ain’t movin’ on. So you’d better enjoy your little victory now, ‘cause I’m gonna sweep her right off her feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really? When was the last time </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> went on a real date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was the musician’s turn to fall silent. Raihan snickered in the background, but Piers recovered enough to shout his rebuttal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-so what? I don’t need that sappy shit to prove how I feel! You did it your way, I’ll do it mine! We’ll see which she likes more at the end of it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring it on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A newfound invigoration in his body, Piers ended the call and marched back into his lead guitarist’s house, already striking up a plan of his own to win your heart. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Raihan's date with you went swimming - how will it goes with our favorite punkass??? Ohohohohoho y'all see where I'm goin' with all this, lolol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Piers Explains Why I, the Author, Play Brass Instruments and Dream of Dating a Guitarist or Pianist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Piers' turn!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the six days between your date with Raihan and where we currently find ourselves in this dumpster fire of a fanfiction, you have practically been texting both the dragon tamer and the musician nonstop. It was a terrible thing to discover that both of these men seemed to be attached to their phones 24/7. While you certainly expected that from Raihan, it was a pleasant surprise to find that Piers would also text you back within about thirty minutes of sending a message. Even if it was at two o’clock in the morning, he would respond (Why did you text him at 2AM? You fell asleep at eight, woke up hours later, thought it was still eight, sent the text, didn’t check the time until you saw the ‘Read’ message, read his reply, and promptly told him to go the fuck to sleep). And while it was probably not a thing you should be getting used to (nor should you really be doing at all), you started to find yourself getting more and more accustomed to the developing relationships you had between both boys. No decisions have been made, yet, and both don’t seem bothered by that, so you decide that it’s best to test drive the available options and pick which ride you like best in the end. Then promptly ride the fuck out of that option until the end of time. Because everyone here is mature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, all that being said, Friday comes along and you get a message from Piers, which is a bit of a surprise considering it’s barely noon and the sun is still up so </span>
  <em>
    <span>why the hell is he awake</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Piers: </b>
  <span>got any plans for the day?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>You:</b>
  <span> Not really. Was just gonna stop existing for a while lol</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> mood - but i got a better idea</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You flick up an eyebrow. It’s safe to say that you think you know where this is going, but you try not to assume too much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You:</b>
  <span> lol like what?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> my band’s performing tonight and i figured i’d offer u a free ticket</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> if u don’t mind punk rock</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You, of course, happen to like punk rock (so long as it’s done well - nothing is worse than some lame group of twelve-year-olds screaming about how much the world doesn’t understand them or whatever the fuck). But Piers hasn’t given you that impression so far, so you shrug your shoulders and reply back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You: </b>
  <span>Yeah man sounds great! Though I don’t mind buying a ticket to support you.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> nah. u’ll be plenty supportive bein there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cute how you can almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> his voice through the text. Whether it’s Piers actually writing his accent or just him being lazy, it’s still incredibly adorable. But let’s not tell him that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You: </b>
  <span>Cool. I take that it’s in Spikemuth?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> yup. the venue’s a bit shifty so i’ll take u there n get u all set up. it’ll be underground and cold so bring a jacket</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers: </b>
  <span>or i can lend u mine - whatever</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh Arceus, this man is adorable. Once you get past the death glares and the cold shoulders, this man is just strawberry fucking ice cream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You:</b>
  <span> I don’t have any jackets to go with the outfit I have in mind, so I’ll probably take you up on that, actually. Thanks for inviting me!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Piers:</b>
  <span> course, love. i’ll be by round 7. we’ll take a cab from there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You check the time, nodding to yourself with all the prep work you have set out for you. It’s probably going to take you a little longer to match Piers’ aesthetic as compared to Raihan’s, but it’s a challenge you’re willing to accept. With that, you type a thumbs up emoji and wait until five to start getting ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, you decided on something a bit more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>outgoing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. While you love sweet-n-shy Piers, you figure that maybe he could use a bit more, let’s say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>encouragement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A side-studded pair of tight leather pants you impulse-bought a year ago (a bit of a squeeze, really, but you weren’t about to try and take them off </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>), a strapless black lace crop top that also squeezed you in all the right places (which consequently meant no bra - oh well, I guess), and that same pair of black heeled boots you wore drinking that one time. Your hair looked a bit wild, but in the sexy kind of way so it was fine. And after nearly an hour of hard work, your dark smokey makeup sealed the look together, the only blast of color being a daring shade of dark red lip-stain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, maybe it was a little bold. But you were having fun putting the whole outfit together, and it certainly wouldn’t make you stick out in a place like a Spikemuth concert, so it wasn’t that bad. But a bit of you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious seeing yourself in all this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>About five minutes past seven, you hear a knock on your door. You jump up from the couch, pull your top up a bit so you don’t blind the poor man, and answer the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fine for about two seconds. But before he could even finish saying a simple greeting, his eyes worked their way </span>
  <em>
    <span>aaallll the way down</span>
  </em>
  <span> your frame before his entire body was flushed with a painful looking shade of red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried to smile, tried to give him a moment to recalibrate. But the syllable just kept going on and on and his mouth was wide open and he just kept staring, so...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can take a picture, if you want,” you tease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That about snaps him out of it and he covers his mouth, trying to avoid looking at you entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-ah, shit - sorry...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. Glad you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the two of you begin to make your way out of the apartment complex and hop into a fly taxi. You really weren’t sure what he would wear for this, but you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that he’s dressed as he normally does. Just a pair of tight black jeans, metallic-looking heeled boots, a snug tank top, black leather jacket, and his hair up in its average ponytail. Suddenly, that feeling of self-consciousness returns. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone all out with the outfit. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s hardly looking at you, and seems to be a bit too distracted to even maintain a decent conversation. Suddenly, you’re thrown all the way back to when you first went to Spikemuth with him. All those walls you thought you had crossed were right back up and there didn’t seem to be any clear ways to move beyond them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can’t help but sulk a little bit, distracting yourself instead with your phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” his voice catches your attention, “sorry if I’m actin’ a bit, uh, weird. Just… a bit nervous, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look up at him. He’s still not looking at you, opting instead for gazing out into the sky with the wind brushing through his side fringe. You can see the faint blush still residing on his face, though, seeming out of place upon his everyday gloomy expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s quiet for a moment, perhaps hesitating a bit on what to say next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um… Should probably warn you that it might get a bit intense in there. Crowds can get real wild at my shows, so I’ll set you up with one of my pokemon to keep an eye on you during the show. He likes all the noise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s fine. I’m not planning on jumping into any mosh pits, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs a bit at that, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone always gets a bit out of control - it’s awesome. Performin’ is my favorite way to just let everythin’ out, y’know?” You hum in affirmation. “And, uh, it’s probably not a great idea, but… I’d really like you to see that side of me in person. I can’t help but get a bit excited after a great show.” You must have made some sort of face at that, because he quickly backtracks. “B-but I’m not plannin’ nothin’ weird - just, y’know, I wanna be confident around you without scarin’ you away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All your previous worries go down the drain as you put a hand on his shoulder. He hesitantly meets your eyes. It’s incredibly sweet with how strangely shy he is, but a part of you wonders just how deep that shyness runs. Maybe it’s a bit selfish, but you kind of want to see a more romantically-confident Piers just this once. So, as has always worked for you before, you decide to stir the flames a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’m not weirded out or any of that. To be honest… I kind of have a terrible habit of analyzing people. I like knowing what kind of person someone is by looking at how they present themselves, or how they talk, or the </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> they talk - stuff like that has always been cool to me. And I’ll be honest and say that you did kind of intimidate me a bit when we first meet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get that a lot,” he shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s okay. I got to know you and now I think I can say that you’re really just a genuine person. You don’t worry about what other people think about you, and do what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> think is right. That seems pretty confident to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, I guess…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And,” you catch his eyes once more when he tries to look away, “you’ve always been super careful around me, even when you could have done something, well, probably not good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause that’s how everyone should act. Nothin’ special ‘bout that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say, Piers, is that I trust you. I know you’re not a weirdo or a homicidal murderer - at least I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> not.” He chuckles a bit, shaking his head. “And you’re very understanding even in… well, whatever kind of situation we’re all in. And for the record, I don’t mind if you’re confident or shy or something in between - I still like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s completely caught off-guard by your last statement. You can see the cogs turning wildly behind his eyes - all he needs is a big red “ERROR” sign panning within them and the look would be perfect. So, you give his shoulder a squeeze and settle back in your seat, a smug grin on your face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of you eventually land in Spikemuth, Piers offering you a hand out of the cab even though you probably don’t need it but you happily accept anyway. He seems to have recovered from your words, judging by the way he’s straightened himself up a bit taller as he wraps an arm around your side to guide you down the street. While he looks pretty thin and lanky, you’re surprised to find that he’s also </span>
  <em>
    <span>shockingly solid</span>
  </em>
  <span> once you’re pressed up against his side. You blush, look up at him, only to see his eyes focused on the street ahead. Hey, looks like your words are taking root, after all. You smile a bit and continue on down the dark streets of the city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The side of town he takes you to is significantly more populated. Tagged up houses with thin kids wandering the streets, peering eyes hiding in the shadows of suspicious alleys in hopes that someone wanders too close, vagabonds with nothing to lose crouching in the gutter as they shared a tall bottle of beer. In the distance, a tall archway that was painted with bright neon pink paint stood in the distance, fairy lights wrapped around the legs and the railings beside it. A bright neon sign gleamed as a beckon of life in the rugged-looking area, the words “Thunderground” ever-brilliant against the gloom. Several other punks loitered along the railings, giving sharp glares at everyone who headed down into the subway stairs. The closer you two got, the more attention seemed to come your way. The distant rumble of music vibrated from the ground and up your body, sparking up some anticipation at what sort of night you’d be finding yourself in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both approached the stairs, only for a short girl to block the way. It was kind of cold out, so you couldn’t help but be a bit impressed with how well she seemed to be doing considering she was only really wearing a purple-and-black checkered tube top and booty shorts. Her stiletto boots, however, didn’t do much to even out her short stature, as she was still a head shorter than you. Despite feeling a bit nervous about how she was glaring daggers at you, you managed a smile. Piers groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pam,” he ran a hand through his fringe, “don’t you got anythin’ better to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And miss your show?” Her feminine voice hissed out, giving an amused grin. “Nah, nothin’ else could be a better waste of my time.” Her eyes returned to you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh this doesn’t look good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Who’s she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl gave you a once over. Whatever she found, she didn’t seem too impressed with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not your type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a type - now </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glared at him a moment longer before eventually sliding to the side, plucking a cigarette and lighter from Arceus knows where.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy Thunderground,” was all she mumbled before popping the freshly lit cigarette between her painted purple lips and wandered off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piers rolled his eyes once more before taking you down the stairs. The deeper you went, the less natural the lighting seemed. The scene transitioned haunting yellow streetlights to a much more lively glow of multicolored neon all over the place. Shades of pink, purple, blue, and white illuminated the once abandoned subway into something like a dystopian nightclub, bars and tables and stages all over the place while people partied all around tracks. Even now, thousands of people bustled around you both, everyone more eager to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> rather than notice your presence. Piers’ arm was tight around your shoulders, keeping you more than close as he navigated his way through the insanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the two of you made it to what used to be an employee’s only area. A couple bouncers immediately recognized Piers (which probably wasn’t hard, seeing as the while in his hair glowed a bit from what you realized was countless blacklights glued up on the ceiling) and let the two of you pass through. You enter a break room of sorts, a couple of shitty-looking couches sandwiching a small coffee table in the center, which was covered entirely in a combination of alcoholic drinks and coffee cups. Three pairs of eyes landed on the two of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kay,” Piers took a deep breath, “guy, this is [Y/n] - [Y/n], this are my bandmates. Now that everyone knows each other, we’ll be in the back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the singer could drag you towards the door at the other end of the room, a woman stepped in front of you both for the second time today. You had to look up to meet her eyes, only to find that she was considerably more curious than that Pam lady from earlier. And this girl was stunning in a totally different way - a large, wild afro on her head with sharp and viscous black make-up all over her dark face. She was damn near covered entirely in tattoos, all of which looking equally badass and kind of arty. The only accessories she wore was a simple black spiked collar, a jeweled nose ring, and a pair of silver snake-bites. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice try,” she said in a milky alto voice, “but not this time. You can’t spend all rehearsal talkin’ some girl up, and then hide her when we finally get to meet her. That ain’t right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You flicked an eyebrow up at Piers, who obviously was trying to keep from getting embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tryin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to scare her off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy in the back with short but gel-spiked hair kicked his legs up onto the table, knocking most everything down in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you ‘shamed of us ‘r somethin’? ‘N I thought we were family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman spun around, giving him a sour glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the reason Piers doesn’t even let Marnie visit during rehearsals, so don’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>start</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The man shrugged and the woman returned her gaze to you. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” you fumbled for words, feeling a bit flustered to have attention thrown onto you in this way. “Hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman smirked, crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Tox. I play the bass for the band. The idiot you heard earlier is Billy, our guitarist, and the silent brute over there is Diego, our drummer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tan-skinned man on the opposite couch as Billy offers a silent wave despite his blank expression. Tox offers your hand, so you take it. Damn near cost you a few fingers with how tight her grip is, but you manage to keep a straight face. Apparently, this is a good decision, because she offers you an amused grin. She releases your hand, turning her back on the two of you to lean against a wall beside one of the couches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go play,” she waves her hand, “but we’re on in ten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can hardly think to get embarrassed, as Piers is more than ready to cross the room and pull the two of you inside a different room. This one is a bit smaller, but judging from the menagerie of wall mirrors and a strangely ornate foldable room divider in the corner of the room. Another couch, albeit smaller and velvet red, sat against a wall just some feet away from the divider. He lets out a small sigh of relief once the door was locked behind the two of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t too bad,” you nudged him a bit before walking forward to inspect more of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because Tox took mercy on me for once. Next time probably won’t be so easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shrug, dragging your eyes from mirror to mirror to mirror. The room was surprisingly appealing to you despite it’s obvious wear-n-tear; the walls were painted black and velvet red carpeting softened the sounds of your footsteps. Definitely felt like some underground rockstar’s dressing room, that for sure. You passed a curious glance over at Piers; he leaned against the door, seeming more than content to just watch from a distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessin’ you’ve been to a few concerts before?” he asked, catching your attention once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, a few. Though I’ll admit, I’ve been to more orchestral shows than rock shows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause you’re a classical musician, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook him a surprised smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember telling you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he pushes himself off from the door. You watch him saunter over towards you, eyes fixated on your form through the glass of the mirror right in front of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a hunch,” his lowered voice suddenly oozed into life like warm honey. You never realized just how beautiful of a voice this guy has; it completely has you frozen in place, body tingling just at the sound of it getting ever closer to you. “You kiss just like a brass player.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops just behind you, head peering over your shoulder to keep eye contact with your reflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> what gave it away? I don’t think that’s how it works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles, a hand just ghosting your lower back. You can feel the warmth of his fingertips sliding up the length of your spine, slowly making their way up to the back of your neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure it does. Reed players have strong jaws, makin’ them good at biting. Percussion players have the best rhythm, and know how to use just the right amount of force. Brass players need a good embouchure to make the right note sound good, givin’ ‘em strong lip ‘n cheek muscles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling suddenly courageous, you turn around, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You feel his hands slide down to your waist, holding you firm against his person, eyes unmoving from your own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about singers? What’s their advantage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t shut up.” You laugh, leaning your head back in the action. Piers takes the opportunity to rest his head in the exposed crook of your neck, bending over just a bit to nestle against you. “But,” his voice calms you down once more, “I’m not just a singer, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> going somewhere, and you</span>
  <em>
    <span> definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> are all for it. All your previous reservations are out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really now?” You can’t help the suggestive lilt in your voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm.” His hands make a slow descent, and you’re getting a good idea as to what’s to come. “Guitar and piano. I’m alright at them, mostly since I’ve been playin’ since I was a kid. So, guess you could say…” You squeak a bit as his hands give a tight squeeze to your ass, his head lifting up just in time to give a dangerous smirk. “... I’m pretty good with my hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re quite literally two seconds away from climbing this man like a fucking tree when the distant rumble of screaming fans outside catches your attention. Piers clicks his tongue, begrudgingly releasing you as he took a step back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be my cue,” he sighed, reaching into his pocket and revealing an inactive Dusk Ball. He activates it and it grows, before he finally unleashes it’s secrets a few feet away from you. When the light receded, a Toxtricity slumped before you, seeming just as moody as Piers normally looked. “Toxtricity here’ll keep an eye on ya durin’ the show, to make sure no-one messes with ya. Got that, Toxtricity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The poison-type shrugged, lifting a hand to mindlessly strum the protruding bumps across its chest. It turned its attention towards you, a deep croak etching from within its throat. You offered it a shy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a Toxtricity?” you ask Piers as you offered your hand to the creature in an attempt at making nice-nice. Toxtricity leaned forward to sniff, before ultimately grabbing your wrist with both hands to further inspect your hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He’s actually from my original team during my gym challenge - my second-in-command, I guess. He and Obstagoon were the only two from my original six that wanted to keep battlin’ when I became gym leader, so I kept ‘em both. Toxtricity doesn’t like goin’ easy on the kids, though, so he’s only for the Champion Cup or exhibition matches. So you’ll be in good hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pokemon freed your hand, and you gave him a nice little pat on the head. Though he didn’t want to show it, you could tell that he appreciated the gesture. Piers shifted in your peripherals, so you looked over just in time to see him shrugging off his jacket. He draped it around your shoulders with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be hot out there, but you’ll freeze once you leave the crowd. Hang onto this ‘til the two of you come back here, ‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much too flustered to respond (</span>
  <em>
    <span>farewell, sweet confidence</span>
  </em>
  <span>), you simply nod. With that, Toxtricity begins shuffling you out of the room, pausing only to hiss at Billy when he had tried to greet you, and lead you out towards the primary concert area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were thankful for the blue electric mane of the pokemon, because it had suddenly become so dark that you couldn’t see anything else. A few glow sticks wrapped around people illuminated a few moments of life, but other than that, you were shuffling through a crowd of darkness. Eventually, the pokemon pulled you over to the near front of the crowd on the upper level - halting you before you fell into the drop where tracks resided, hissing at anyone who decided to get mouthy. You slide your arms into the pleasantly oversized leather jacket, and not a moment later, the stage lights burst into life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’ve been to a few concerts before, but nothing came close to this. Music echoed from every feasible portion of the subway, practically slapping you in the face from the sheer volume. The crowd immediately lost their minds, cheering along to the first song of the set. People leapt down into the abandoned track lane, almost immediately forming a rather painful-looking mosh pit that was only visible through the bashing lights of glow sticks and a few white pieces of clothing illuminated by the overhead black lights. Toxtricity let out a loud croak, holding your arm from the side as he bobbed his head to the music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Punk rock usually seemed like an antithesis to hypnotic melodies, in your opinion. After all, how could such overpowering music that shook your senses in kick-ass ways be something that could put you in a trance? You found yourself wondering this even as you swayed mindlessly to the beat, eyes fixated on the intense expression Piers was giving to the crowd in that instant. Perhaps this was what it would be like to be ensnared by a siren, entirely at the mercy of rhythmic words that reached down into your very core and pulled you further into their control. It felt like you were watching the perfect fight with how the four distinct styles of each musician blended together in a discordant harmony; the virility of the electric guitar, the creativity of the electric bass, the obstreperousness of the drumset, all brought together by the distinct yet hauntingly evocative lyrics brought to life by Piers’ voice. Oh Arceus, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>voice</span>
  </em>
  <span> - normally so relaxed and indifferent - it was filled with an energy that only came forth from passion of the soul, finding its way into every tone that each song required. Whether he was screaming profanity into the mic during an electrifying uptempo jam or humming along with an iconic bass melody of a soothing ballad, his voice brought an all-encompassing unity to the chaos of his music. For a moment, you truly wondered if you’d ever be able to enjoy other music the same way ever again, now that you had become yet another victim to the siren of Spikemuth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shortest eternity you’d ever experienced, though, did come to an end. You hardly processed the band’s final words before the lights went dark, earning a unanimous groan of disapproval that quickly evolved back into screams of joy at the experience. You were tugged back into reality by Toxtricity, who had wasted no time in pulling you back through the crowd to return to the “backstage area”. The “security” recognized you and Piers’ Toxtricity, letting you both wander inside without much hassle. Much to your surprise, nobody else was back yet. So, you decided to just wait in the dressing room, pleased to find that several of the songs you had just heard were now stuck in your head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, you heard the door open. You jumped to your feet, words of praise already brimming in your mouth. In comes Piers, rubbing a small hand towel across his brow and tossing an empty water bottle into a distant corner of the room. Despite looking so tired from his all-out performance moments prior, he visibly perked up at the sight of you. Before you could think of what you wanted to say first, you watched his look of innocence quickly devolve into something a bit more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>devious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” he brushed away some of the hair that stuck to his face, “what’d you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was great!” You tried to keep calm despite the dangerous smirk you were receiving. “That was definitely one of the best concerts I’ve been to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself off the door, taking slow steps towards you. The tension in the air suddenly hit you, and a bit of anticipation began a slow bubble deep within your core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you show me how great it was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That blast of confidence hit you harder than you knew how to handle. Your entire body burned, making it suddenly hard to focus now that he was snickering at your flustered expression. Hardly wasting a beat, he pulled out Toxtricity’s ball and returned the pokemon, stuffing the ball away just as he trailed a warm hand up your arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this alright?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine. You manage a nod. He doesn’t waste another second, tugging you with him as he makes his way towards the couch. He plops back into it, dragging you into his lap with a wicked glint reflecting through his icy blue eyes. Honestly, you probably shouldn’t have, but with the way he’s gripping the meat of your hips for dear life, you can’t resist pulling him into a bruising kiss. Neither of you seem to mind how much hotter the small room has become, especially when you shrug off Piers’ jacket and let it fall to the ground. He pulls you as close as you can physically be, damn near leaving bruises along your waist and hips with every twitch of his fingers. You open your mouth just a bit and he hurriedly accepts the invitation, quick to drag his hot tongue across yours in the heat of his passion. Your hands running through his hair, his hands on your hips - every sensation sent waves of heat through your stomach that could only be relieved by moans from your throat. The room vibrated with the rumble of another band outside, but the boisterous music fell on deaf ears within this space. Never before had you felt so desperately wanted in your life, and you were sure you never would be by anybody else. No, this was an electric sort of passion; no warmth to be found. Intense. Raw. Beloved. You couldn’t help but sink a bit deeper with every kiss you shared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raihan groaned at the sound of his ringtone. To the side, Flygon flicked his tail in frustration, knocking down several of his stolen pillows while his trainer answered the incoming call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that it’s safe to say,” Piers’ oddly optimistic voice was just enough to wake up the dragon tamer, “that I might be in the lead, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raihan pushed himself up, glaring daggers at the phone screen despite it not being a video call. Piers seriously needed to get a Rotomphone so the man could glare at his rival more easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, none of that. Though I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> consider it, I dropped her off a few minutes ago. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> be wiping off lipstick from my face for probably the next few hours. Beat that, weather boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you fucking -” Raihan took a deep inhale, running a hand down his face. “Fuck - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> - you win this round. But I’m just getting warmed up here, Piers. But now it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>war</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let's be honest - we all know Piers has my heart a thousand times over at this point. Alas, for the sake of the plot, we must continue playing hard to get in order to seduce the maximum amount of hot dudes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Sweet then Sour - Wait, That's Not it Goes...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>You gazed down at him, every bit of restraint slipping from your mind as you drank in his image. His chest heaved in your shared excitement, and all you could think of was how much you desperately wanted your breaths to be in perfect sync. You trailed a hand down the curves of his muscular chest, indulging in every ridge and dip as you moved down south. He watched, more amused than anything it seemed, hands resting underneath his head while you gave in to a dark desire. Before you reached your destination, however, he moved. His hands gently caught your wrists, bringing them back up to his chest and eyes urging you towards him. You obliged. How could you not? It would have been pointless to pull away when his kisses numbed like morphine, his touch burned like alcohol, his breath hot like fire. You sank deeper and deeper with every kiss, melting in the way his large hands trailed down your arms and slipped onto your waist to trail down your curves before</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You awoke in a cold sweat, nearly falling off the bed in your surprise. Your eyes searched the room, trying to push through the disorientation in your mind as you fought to regain some semblance of calm. Eventually, the images of your dream started trickling away into the forgotten realms of your brain, earning a sigh of relief. Though it was nothing more than a dream, you still couldn’t shake the heat that ran through you when you stared into the murkiness of those golden eyes.</p><p>A brief panic washed over you, nearly sending you slumping back into the now dampened comforts of your sheets. <em>What the hell is wrong with me?</em> You ran a hand through your hair. <em>I have two other guys who are waaay sweeter that I’m interested in and I dream of HIM?!</em> A groan escaped your throat. It seemed as though your brain wasn’t to be trusted with sleep any time soon. As much as you didn’t want to, you got up out of bed, deciding that keeping busy would be the best way to escape such thoughts for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Leon let out his own groan of annoyance. While thankfully, he didn’t feel anything to clean up after, his dream had still left him in such a state of desperate wanting that he probably wasn’t going to leave as early as he had planned. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake some of the last remnants of his grogginess away. The sounds of the wilderness outside of his tent helped just a bit.</p><p>It just didn’t make any sense to him. What exactly <em>was</em> it about you that completely destroyed every well-crafted wall he placed around himself? There was no-one else in the whole world who seemed to excite him yet bother him so insanely before. But what was the reason? You were beautiful, sure, but he spent his entire career as champion surrounded by all sorts of beauties. You had an interesting personality, to say the least, but then again, he really couldn’t tell what parts of you were really, well, <em>you</em>. When he changed the script, you followed in brilliant harmony, improvising your words to expertly fit whatever mask he had on. And that frustrated the man to no end. Was it because it reminded him of his own self? Maybe. But there was no denying that in the last few interactions that he had with you, there was something curious to your words, something he couldn’t let himself ignore any longer.</p><p>You slipped up last time, telling him that you found him attractive. That nearly sent him spiraling out of control. So what else could he dig out of you? Would he even be able to resist any longer at that point? The man let out a sigh, ignoring the craving deep in his core for just a few moments longer. This certainly was the last thing he should have been worrying about, all things considered.</p><p>        </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The train ride to Wyndon felt a little longer than usual, probably because you were hilariously impatient, constantly alternating between scrolling through your phone and people-watching those around you. You were notably fidgety today, so you opted to keep Vaporeon by your side the whole ride through (metaphorically speaking, though, as he was currently on your lap, purring away while you rubbed his chin). A few seats down, two young boys (probably seven or eight years of age) were trading pokemon trainer cards. One boy, wearing a familiar but obviously fake snapback, pulled out a card from his folder, waving it around his friend’s face with smug relish.</p><p> “I’ll trade you my super-awesome limited-edition Raihan card for your limited-edition Nessa card?”</p><p>“Wait?” the other boy gasped, pulling his own folder of cards a little closer to his chest. He seemed to be wearing a bright neon Pikachu shirt. “No way! You have no idea what I had to do to get that card!”</p><p> “Come on – you don’t even <em>like</em> water-types.”</p><p>“So? You don’t either – you just want Nessa’s card because she’s hot.”</p><p>The little kid shrugged. You cringed a bit, deciding to turn away from the scene. Maybe that was enough people-watching for today.</p><p>So, you looked down at your phone, pulling up a news app. It seemed as though the big investigation in Wyndon was finally coming to some relative conclusion, the main article reading that the final decision would be taking place today. Not much was publicly known about the trials of Rose and his team, but you didn’t expect that it was running any differently from how everyone assumed it to be. It was obvious that Rose would be convicted, hopefully thrown in jail for the rest of his life. And you would rest easy knowing that another power-hungry sociopath was locked away forever. Before you clicked out of the article, your eyes happened to jump a bit lower, catching a familiar name that unfortunately drew you closer. <em>‘While many of the suspects and witnesses remain unknown to the public, it has become more than apparent that authorities had struggled to find the previous champion, Leon, in time for questioning. It is almost as if he has vanished entirely from the world, which has caught the attention of many around the region. Could our once shining star be harboring a deeper secret involving Rose’s rendition of the Darkest Day?’</em> You frowned. Now that you thought about it, there <em>was</em> a notable lack of Leon these days. Your dream was the first time he had even come to mind since your inauguration, and it seemed as though you weren’t the only one to notice his sudden absence today. You shrug, finally exiting out of the article. <em>Maybe it’s better that way</em>, you sigh, looking out the window. Your eyes reflect back at you from the window. Even <em>you</em> can’t read the emotion on your face.</p><p>The train eventually arrives at the Wyndon Station, pulling you out of your mindless thoughts and back into reality. You’re in casual clothes – a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt – but added on a beanie and scarf for the chill in the air as well as the slight disguise it gave you. People in Wyndon seemed to be notably more in touch with their celebrities (or at least gave less of a shit about privacy as compared to other cities you’ve been to), and you weren’t really in the mood to explain any of the nonsense going on to a stranger. Thankfully, with Vaporeon at your side, you didn’t exactly look like a fire-type specialist. So on you walked, making your way towards what used to be known as Rose Tower.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Piers rubbed his temple, his already thin patience straining in the back of his mind. And for Raihan’s sake, he hoped that his four-shot espresso would take effect sometime soon.</p><p>“Aaaand let’s take another from <em>this</em> angle!” Raihan cheered, leaning against the table as he brought his Rotomphone closer for a selfie. The incubator he was posing beside gave a soft hum, further irritating the ex-gym leader in the corner of the room.</p><p> “You’ve taken selfies from <em>every</em> angle – give a fuckin’ break already,” Piers eventually grumbled.</p><p>Raihan spun around, flashing one of his easy smiles that was much too bright for nine in the morning.</p><p> “Wanna make sure I get the perfect pic for the fans. This bad boy just might be what I need to finally take the champion title next year.”</p><p>“If there’s even a league, next year.”</p><p> Raihan shrugged, his Rotomphone retiring to the depths of his hoodie pockets.</p><p>“Like hell the region’s gonna let the league fall through. I mean, sure, we had a huge scandal that could have completely toppled Galarian society as we know it, but hasn’t <em>every </em>region? Plenty of blokes get crazy and use pokemon for their own dumb reasons, and still competitive battling continues to thrive. I seriously doubt we’d let something like <em>this</em> change all that.”</p><p>Piers slumps a little deeper into his chair, crossing one long let over the other. Though he’d rather be in his own house, he had to admit that Raihan’s giant, custom-made furniture and house was kind of nice. It’s really hard to look intimidating when you’re all scrunched up in a tiny chair. Must be nice to actually get paid.</p><p> “Hope so.”</p><p>Raihan gave the egg one last look, admiring its simple pattern with an eager grin. It’d be a while before it hatches, so there was no need to keep a super close eye on it. He picked up the portable incubator and lugged it all the way into his bedroom, where he carefully placed it beside the ever-so-happily sleeping Flygon on the bed. With the egg taken care of, the dragon tamer returned to his kitchen, grabbing his cup of tea (which had fallen cold during his selfie-extravaganza) and chugging it’s contents before popping the mug in the sink. He heard Piers push himself upright, his bones cracking loudly even from all the way across the room.</p><p>“Thanks for the coffee,” the pale man attempted to shuffle off, but Raihan spun around and slung a friendly arm around his shoulder.</p><p>“Ah, come on – we never get to hang out anymore!”</p><p>“What the fuck are you – we <em>never</em> hang out!”</p><p>“Which is why we <em>should</em>~,” Raihan leaned his head onto Piers’ head, which earned an elbow to the ribs. Piers scrambled out of Raihan’s grip, shooting a sour (and red) expression towards the taller man.</p><p>“Fuck off! I’ve got better things to do than waste my time hangin’ around the likes of <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? Like what?</p><p>“Literally <em>anything</em>.”</p><p> Raihan snickered, striding forward to join the musician’s side, notably keeping his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“You gotta relax, mate – I know a really nice music shop down in Wyndon. You’d love it; it’s got all sorts of goodies there that a geek like you would appreciate. I get all my dragon whistles there.”</p><p>Piers frowned, running the words through his mind a few times extra. A fancy music shop <em>did</em> sound nice. And if it’s in Wyndon, it’s probably all high-end equipment, probably filled to the brim with expensive brands like Yamaha or Gibson. And now that he thought about it, he really <em>could</em> use a new set of guitar strings…</p><p>“Just to look. Then I’m out.”</p><p>Raihan threw his hands up childishly, cheering a little too loudly for the musician. Somehow, Piers was already beginning to regret this decision.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not here?”</p><p>The front desk attendant shook her head, the dark circles under her eyes making her perhaps flawless body seem a bit more realistic. Poor dear has probably been dealing with bullshit like police and civil questionings all day long.</p><p>“I’m afraid not, ma’am. The Champion’s been out of the region for a couple weeks now; apparently it was very important.”</p><p>"Oh…” you gave a dejected sigh. “Well, hopefully everything’s okay. Thank you for the help, though.”</p><p> She nods, tiredly returning the mess of paperwork at her desk. You turn on your heels to make your way out of the lobby, Vaporeon right at your heels.</p><p>Victor was out of the region entirely? Just after being crowned as champion? That was strange. Shouldn’t he be here leading everyone during all this chaos? More specifically, acting as a leading witness for the trials just down the street? It must be incredibly important if he had to leave everything here in such chaos. Then again, maybe not – he <em>was</em> just a kid, after all. But you tried not to let that possibility stay in your head too long. You could only hope that everything would be okay.</p><p>You walked down the street, pulling your beanie down to combat the growing cold all around you. Vaporeon suddenly gave a loud yip from below. You looked down to notice that he was staring rather intently to the left, eyes fixed on the crosswalk down the sidewalk. Before you could open your mouth to ask, you caught sight of two individuals rounding the corner. It didn’t take too much thinking to recognize them. Before you could think to make a decision on whether or not to flee or hurry towards them, they looked down at you, eyes wide in surprise. It’s only a matter of time before both men make their way over to you, attempting to stay as cool as possible in the middle of town.</p><p>“Well, if it isn’t our fair lady,” Raihan smirked, offering you one of his signature grins, “What brings you to Wyndon, princess?”</p><p>“I was coming to see if I could talk to Victor for a bit, but it looks like he’s out of the region,” you can’t help but sigh at that. You perk back up though, unable to sulk in the presence of these two charming (well, charming in their own way) guys. “What about you two? Though I think I can guess that Raihan dragged you out of the house, huh, Piers?”</p><p>Piers tried to shoot you a sharp pout, but it hardly lasted; he just huffed as he looked off to the side, trying not to seem so awkward. Raihan swung his arm around the musician’s shoulders.</p><p>“So now that your plans for the day are dashed, wanna hang out with us? Promise we’ll be good~!”</p><p>You flicked up an eyebrow. Piers tried to squirm away, resorting to elbowing the dragon tamer, but none of it seemed to even faze Raihan as he beamed happily in your direction. Something about this sight felt oddly surreal – so much so that you felt so strange in your body, as if it wasn’t yours. But you were sure that it was yours, that this was indeed happening <em>to you</em> and no other, that you weren’t about to wake up from some dream. A soft smile slipped onto your face, and with its emergence came that little flame once more, burning brighter and brighter evermore.</p><p>“... Yeah. Yeah, I’m down.”</p><p>Raihan grinned. Piers pretended not to smirk.</p><p>“Great!”</p><p> </p><p>The three of you eventually wandered upon a cute little café just down the street, which thankfully seemed to be thinning out following the morning rush. Piers took a few quick strides to reach the door before either you or Raihan, propping the door open with the aid of his boot.</p><p>“<em>Oo~</em>,” Raihan sang out, lingering in the doorway for a moment after you tootled inside, “holding the door open for us like a gentleman? That doesn’t seem very punk-rock.”</p><p>“You don’t even know what punk is – just get inside already before I hit you.”</p><p>The much taller man snickered.</p><p>“Ah man – if I had a tenner for every time I’ve been told <em>that</em> before…”</p><p>You didn’t bother hiding your giggles. With Piers angrily mumbling in the background and Raihan being – well, <em>Raihan</em> – you took the initiative to slink into an empty table with four available seats. A few of the employees gave you sweetly timid waves from behind their counter, which you happily returned. The smell of chocolate and bread wafted through the air; a pair of Alcremie slithered across the floor with full trays of sweets in their hands, while several Cutiefly and Polteageist assisted with refilling drinks and issuing take-out orders. All around you, designs of pink and white decorated the quaint establishment – it kind of reminded you of something from a <em>shoujo</em> manga. But the cherry on top wasn’t just the decorations, no – it was the fact that Raihan, in all his tall-as-fuck glory, seemed to be struggling with getting to the table without bumping into the handful of expensive-looking mini-chandeliers, which had posed you and even Piers no issue. The musician made it to the table just in time to see Raihan attempt to swerve around one more, only to wince as he was pulled backwards by some unseen force.</p><p>“Um,” the dragon tamer reached a hand up to head, realizing the situation, “so… uh… Piers, uh… Have I ever mentioned how cool you are?”</p><p>“Not enough,” was the cold-hearted reply.</p><p>You squinted your eyes. If you looked hard enough, you could just barely see that one of his dreadlocks had been hooked by one of the dangling pieces of the chandelier. With as small as those dangly pieces were, it didn’t seem as though Raihan’s larger hands would be able to get it free without having to do some damage to either party. So you tried not to laugh. You really tried.</p><p>Piers, however, seemed content to watch the situation with apparent relish. Several of the employees were spectating by now, hands over their mouths in worry as they asked around for a stepladder. The sentiment only served to make Piers laugh harder.</p><p>“You should probably help him,” you nudged, “this is just cruel.”</p><p>The musician seemed to genuinely mull it over. Eventually, he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, passing a devious smirk that left Raihan furrowing his brows a bit.</p><p>“Sure, I’ll help ya – <em>but</em> ya gotta say that Dynamaxin’ is lame.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?! That’s literally half my brand!”</p><p>“Lose half your brand or lose half your hair – the choice is yours, mate.”</p><p>Raihan pursed his lips, struggling to resist the forming smile from the sheer ridiculousness of the situation at hand. He tried to fiddle with the danglies once more, but quickly got frustrated and let out an overdramatic huff.</p><p>“Fine. Dynamax is lame. Help me.”</p><p>Piers shook his head.</p><p>“No, no, no – say it with your <em>heart</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Now’s not the time for your sappy lyricism I said it now please help me</em>!”</p><p>“Eh, good enough,” Piers shrugged, pushing himself up from the chair to provide some assistance. It wasn’t long before the dragon tamer was freed – no damage done to dangle nor dreadlock – and both males had joined you in no time.</p><p>“Well, all that emotional and physical trauma made me hungry,” Raihan grinned. He glanced over at the menu, pausing only to glance in your direction. “What about you, princess? Got a sweet-tooth?”</p><p>You shrug. “I can go for some sweets right about now.”</p><p>Raihan opens his mouth to no-doubt say something suggestive, only for Piers to flick him on the forehead.</p><p>“Hey! What was <em>that</em> for?”</p><p>“We’re in public – don’t be a moron.”</p><p>You dare to test the flames.</p><p>“The sexual tension between you both is <em>killing me.</em>”</p><p>Piers snaps his eyes at you, hardly able to stammer out intelligible words before his face is aflush in hues of pink and red; Raihan simply bursts into laughter, playfully poking the musician’s shoulder.</p><p>“You heard the lady – we <em>gotta</em> resolve this issue.”</p><p>“W-what?! Stop touchin’ me! Get your hands <em>off</em>!”</p><p>“Sure, sure… But rest easy knowing we’ll keep you in mind when I inevitably win this little game we got going on here,” Raihan winked.</p><p>That’s enough to send the dark-type user swirling around in his seat, forcing him to look <em>anywhere else</em> as he wipes a hand across his face.</p><p>“What part… of <em>‘we’re in public’</em>… do you <em>not</em> understand?! Ugh…”</p><p>The stupid expression on Raihan’s face in response has you rolling your eyes, hoping it’s enough to hide your slight excitement. <em>Well, that was an interesting development.</em></p><p>“Alright, alright – while you both talk things out, how about I go order for us?”</p><p>Raihan beamed up at you. “Oh, just an order of white tea and a lemon cake, if they have it, please.”</p><p>Piers groaned again. “We’re just gonna ignore that? Fine, yeah – whatever. Black coffee for me, then…”</p><p>You giggled, offering him a reassuring pat on the head (which only served to fluster him <em>more</em>) before wandering over to the counter to place the order.</p><p> </p><p>Over at the table, however, Raihan passed Piers a hidden glance.</p><p>“You know, it really <em>has</em> been a long time since we got to hang out like this.”</p><p>Piers rested his elbows on his knees, still facing away from the table.</p><p>“Whatever you’re tryin’ to say, keep it to yourself.”</p><p>“Heh… I don’t remember you being <em>this</em> easy to fluster. I’m not complaining, though.”</p><p>“Shut it.”</p><p>The dragon tamer gave a low chuckle, resting his head on his fist as he gazed over at you picking out what you wanted from the glass display case. It seemed like it had been an eternity since he had seen you so genuinely relaxed.</p><p>“… In all seriousness, though… no matter what comes about all… this… I’ll always consider you a friend of mine. That’ll never change.”</p><p>Piers opened his mouth to reply but shook it off. He didn’t need to sour the mood of the day so soon – at least not while you were here. He’d save it for later, another disappointing discussion to be had behind closed doors.</p><p>As if to save the day, you return, followed closely by a lively Alcremie carrying a tray of your food. Up above, a trio of Cutieflies delicately deposited your order of drinks, respectively. All three of you offered your thanks, before quickly digging into your meals.</p><p>The lightness of the air quickly returned with your added presence, just enough to add mediation between Raihan’s easy-going cheeriness and Piers’ dry sarcasm. Every so often, you let out a sassy retort or phrase of advice, and never once felt like either of them took for granted. It wasn’t long before even the ever-gloomy musician was fully invested in the conversation, a ghost of a smile on his face as he told a quick story about Marnie as an infant. You could see Raihan in the corner, nodding away, completely invested in the story with no hints of disinterest to be found.</p><p>This calmness, something only to be compared to finding the eye of a storm, was something that had your modest flame finding its way from your core to your heart, igniting a passion within you that craved more of whatever this moment was. As far as you were concerned, an eternity of just <em>this</em> would be greatest wish.</p><p>Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Raihan pull out his phone, his laugh-induced smile still bright on his chiseled features. You nearly return your focus to the conversation once more, but something on his face changes. His brows furrow, his eyes widen, his lips part – a look of pure shock. You turn to face him, unable to resist the curiosity rising up inside you. Even Piers looks over as Raihan scrolls through something on his phone, an emotion something akin to maybe <em>fear</em> seeming more and more apparent on his face. You and Piers shared a quick look; the musician inched to the side, trying to steal a glance at what had gotten the dragon tamer so worked up when Raihan suddenly handed him the phone. Piers blinked away his confusion before skimming through the screen; just like Raihan, a look of shock washed across his face, urging his reading faster and faster as he ran a hand through his bangs.</p><p>“Holy shit…” Piers gasped. Raihan nodded, putting his head down for just a moment. A small welt of terror had risen in your stomach, now – was it a joke? Were they just messing with you? You could only pray that it was the case. You say his name gently, voice hardly above a whisper; Piers glances up at you, then back at the phone, clearly unsure. Eventually, though, he gives you the device.</p><p>You don’t even make it through the whole headline before you shoot up to your feet, nearly knocking the table down in your haste. The men look up at you. For as powerful and strong as they were, you couldn’t look past the glint of <em>something</em> in their eyes.</p><p><em>Fear</em>.</p><p>It isn’t long before you’re stumbling out of the cafe, tripping over yourself in a desperate attempt to get away – you don’t know why, and you definitely don’t know where. You just flee, ignoring all their pleads and cries for you to return. The world in front of you slices back and forth between reality and memory to the point where you’re hardly sure which is what. As a brick-like dread settles in the dark recesses of your gut, only one thing is made clear to you: Chairman Rose has been released, free to do as he pleased.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>jajajajajaja</p><p>bet y'all thought this was gonna be all fluff hehehehe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Aaand Let’s Run Away from Our Problems – Yeah, See Where That Gets Ya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>also known as the chapter where nobody makes any good decisions~!</p><p>DISCLAIMER: Things get sexy. Things also get aggressive. The spicy kind. And mean. So, like, uh... be careful before reading this chapter, ok? cool have fun ya crazy kids</p><p>(also I know the tense is really everywhere in this chapter - just bare with me here djhgfhkgfjghd)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            You ran as far as your legs could take you. Voices blended together, faces losing all sense of individuality, air choking you from within as you gave nothing else in the world so much as a considering glance.</p><p> </p><p>            <em>“Authorities found no condemning evidence regarding Chairman Martin Rose’s alleged involvement with the catastrophic event. No recordings – visual nor audio – were found that depicted the entirety of chairman’s speech before the power went out that day. Testimonies gathered on the speech were mixed – spectators claimed he admitted to his and the champion’s involvement, while other citizens claimed that it was a speech of him warning the region of the coming danger he was fighting against. In the end, the evidence was deemed inadmissible in court and the supposedly missing cut of the speech was deemed as a case of mass hysteria among the spectators who attended the championship event.”</em></p><p> </p><p>            Tears burned against the corners of your eyes. You ignored them, making your way towards the tall, looming walls to the metropolitan city. It was that your legs faltered; you slumped against iron wrought railing, panting feverishly as you squeezed your eyes shut in pure disbelief. <em>This can’t be happening,</em> you wanted to scream, <em>this can’t be fucking HAPPENING.</em></p><p>“Everything okay there, miss?” a voice pulled you briefly from your descent into madness.</p><p>            You lift your eyes to meet a Corviknight jockey standing off to the side. Despite his confident stance, you could see the his smile twitching with a hint of concern.</p><p>            Your eyes looked up to the horizon, where fluffy white clouds soared in slow-motion with no regard for the pathetic agonies of life down below. You return your gaze to the jockey before calmly nodding your head.</p><p>            “Can I get a ride?”</p><p>            “Sure thing. Where to?”</p><p>            “The Motostoke Wild Area.”</p><p>            The man nodded, gesturing for you to follow beside him. You did.</p><p> </p><p>            <em>“Authorities did provide reports on their investigation of the league, as well as Macro Cosmos and Rose, himself. While officers noted that there was a notable lack of cooperation among Macro Cosmos personnel as well as some of Rose’s personal aides, no convincing evidence could be found that ties the chairman to the ‘Darkest Day.’”</em></p><p> </p><p>            You hardly cared about the height. You hardly reacted to that instinctual idea of plummeting to your doom. Nothing could inspire you to care about your mortality when only one thought managed to play on repeat in your head. <em>How did this happen why is this happening what went wrong what’s going to happen to us to the region to everything to EVERYONE</em></p><p>           </p><p>            <em>“It would appear, however, that evidence of this potentially deadly conspiracy points instead to the higher-up staff within Macro Cosmos. Police found reasonable amounts of evidence regarding the chairman’s personal assistant and MC Tech staff manager, Judith Oleana, with irrefutable connections to Dynamax research as well as extraterrestrial research. Those familiar with the woman noted her intense determination – most deeming it to be quite ‘obsessive’ – in discovering the true power and secrets to the Galarian battle enhancement phenomenon. According to investigators, undeniable proof pointed towards Oleana manipulating the chairman into funneling money towards her research in an obsessive attempt to earn his affections.”</em></p><p> </p><p>            The cab shook a bit from a sudden gust of wind, earning a gasp of surprise from you. The fear that danced across your fingertips was enough to have you curl up a bit more; you crossed your arms over your stomach and leaned forward from within the container, trying to focus a bit more on your breathing. All you wanted right now was just a quiet place to think.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>            “Investigators were able to find enough evidence that guaranteed the secretary’s involvement with the event. Suspicions were further solidified when officers were able to gain a full confession from Oleana shortly after. Oleana was charged with Conspiracy to Defraud the Galar Region, as well as Reckless Endangerment on a Mass Scale. She is expected to receive a £20,000 fine as well as a twenty-year prison sentence with no bail. Several scientists that were also found to be involved with the case received similar sentences. As for the region’s league chairman, Rose, he was fined forty million pounds for being an Accessory to Conspiracy but was able to evade a prison sentence by assisting authorities in the investigation. Following the case’s closure, Rose claimed he would be taking steps towards using more efficient background checks for all MC and league staff, as well as making sure that next year’s challenge season goes smoother – and safer – than ever before.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>            “We’re landing at East Lake Axewell,” the jockey’s voice buzzed in from the com system. A tight grimace falls onto your face, but you can hardly think as to why.</p><p>            Upon landing, you pay the jockey, wishing him a good rest of his day as you offer a couple spare leppa berries you had to the Corviknight, and proceeded to stumble mindlessly beside the lake. Its cool, crystalline waters offered as much peace as they possibly could, though the unwavering dread in your stomach seemed determined to remain.</p><p>            If Rose was free, then surely he will come back with a vengeance. He’d no doubt have an interest in seeking revenge against those who inconvenienced him, using their blood to rebuild his empire anew.</p><p>            That meant Victor and Hop were certain to be harmed.</p><p>            Surely Piers and Marnie would be hurt, too.</p><p>            You didn’t even want to consider how you fit into all of this, especially if it comes to light that you gave Victor some promising confidential information regarding VMax. Your hand unconsciously traced your right hand’s wrist, which seemed hauntingly bare without that loathsome cotton band wrapped around it. Questions without answers assaulted your mind. Yet you kept your face as blank as ever, unable to even consider showing any sign of life besides the movement of your legs.</p><p>            The sun began to set by the time you finally shake yourself out of your thoughts. You’ve managed to meander all the way around to the other side of Lake Axewell, where a densely forested area of the Wild Area stood before you. You’d never really gone in there (it’s generally off-limits to trainers due to there being particularly powerful pokemon who make their homes in these parts), but even though you weren’t exactly feeling adventurous, you walked between the tall trees, anyway. You really didn’t think about it too much – or even at all.</p><p>            The overhang covered up much of the orange and purple sky, dressing your person in dark green shadows. The occasional cry of a pokemon in the distance rings through your ears, but you don’t really process what they are. Everything became white noise, pitched vibrations beating against the walls surrounding your body, yet never hard enough to break through.</p><p>            <em>Victor’s the only one, now, who can help us. But he’s just a kid, and he’s not even here. We have to do something, and protect Hop and Marnie – but… can we really even do something as simple as </em>that<em>? </em></p><p>
  <em>            Maybe I should</em>
</p><p>            You winced at the idea of that thought. Anxiety sky-rocketed through your veins, the beating of your chest sending a familiar throbbing pain with every pump.</p><p>            <em>No, no no no no… I can’t deal with that, again. Either I figure out how to beat this guy some other way, or we’re screwed. </em></p><p>            A low growl catches your attention. You freeze in your steps, looking out the corner of your eye to see a pair of slitted green eyes up in a tree. You nearly groan.</p><p>            “Ah, <em>fuck</em>.”</p><p>            The pokemon leaps out, a loud roar giving you enough adrenaline to bolt forward. The Liepard lands gracefully in your old spot; it wastes no time in giving chase.</p><p>            You slide around a tree, using a branch to swing over a few tall bushes that blocked your way. It was idiotic to think that you could outrun a speedy Pokemon like a wild Liepard, but you at least wanted to get some distance between the two of you so you can summon Vaporeon without getting torn to shreds. You leaped over various roots and plants, focused only on the space in front of you. Liepard’s every growl rumbled through your core. Either it was yards away or just a breath out of reach – you couldn’t be sure.</p><p>            You reached for another tree branch. The top of your foot snagged on a long root down below. The scream that followed was unintentional, and rang in your ears even after you face-plant into a bush.</p><p>            You tried to pull yourself out, but you only managed to tangle yourself deeper into the thorns of the bush. Mother<em>FUCKER</em>!”</p><p>            Vaporeon’s ball was just inside your pocket, but your arms were so far lost in the brambles that you couldn’t even get an arm free to release him. The Liepard stalked ever nearer, seeming pleased with your unfortunate screw-up. A grimace settled onto your face. At least the adrenaline coursing through your body would numb most of the gutting you were sure to get.</p><p>            Just as you thought to look away, the Liepard suddenly lurched to the side. It slammed into a tree – there, you can see the faint purple essence of what looked like a ghost-type attack. You peered over at the point of origin, and in came an Aegislash, prepping another Shadow Ball. The Liepard, intimidated, quickly scrambled away into the distant shadows of the forested area. Feeling a bit uneasy still, you glanced over at the Aegislash once more; it noticed your movement, hovering from side to side as if deliberating on whether or not it should get closer to inspect. Before either of you could settle on a decision, the sound of footsteps entered the scene.</p><p>            “Aegislash, what’d you find?”</p><p>            Oh.</p><p>            Oh <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>            You recognized that voice.</p><p>            Because<em> of course </em>you did.</p><p>            You immediately lock eyes with none other than Leon; it wasn’t long before his once curious expression dissolved into a heavy, serious frown.</p><p>            “You just can’t seem to keep out of trouble, can you?” He sighs.</p><p>            You were more than content to just sit there and wait for some divine intervention to save you from the bush’s grasp, but Leon didn’t seem to care. He walked over to you and made work at trying to untangle your limbs from the thorny brambles, making it obvious that he was ignoring your incessant death glare. You’re soon enough freed, standing before the ex-champion beneath the shroud of trees.</p><p>            Leon brushed away the hair from his face, using that as an excuse to look away from you entirely.</p><p>            “And here I thought I was doing a good job of laying low.”</p><p>            “Don’t flatter yourself – I wasn’t looking for you.”</p><p>            “Then w–”</p><p>            “Rose is free,” the words spill out before you could think them through. “He got off with just a slap on the goddamn wrist and left Oleana and her staff to get prison time on their own.”</p><p>            “… And?”</p><p>            You grit your teeth. No point in holding back your anger. At this point, you didn’t see how it would make any difference, otherwise.</p><p>            “You can’t be serious – you absolutely, positively <em>cannot be fucking serious</em>.” Leon holds your gaze and you fucking <em>snap</em>. “It’s <em>your</em> fault, you fucking <em>asshole</em>! First you let two little kids fix your fucking mess, and then you don’t even <em>bother</em> to do anything to stop the <em>actual bad guy</em>?! Are you really that fucking full of yourself?!”</p><p>            He stayed quiet. You stared him down, unyielding as your anger slowly rose to newfound levels.</p><p>            You saw the tiniest glimmer of <em>something</em> going on in his eyes. For the briefest of moments, you thought he was going to say something <em>useful</em>, only for all of that to get shut down entirely with the roll of those amber eyes. He clicked his tongue and turned on his heels. You watch him return Aegislash to its ball as he took long strides away from you.</p><p>            Yeah, looks like nobody’s making any good decisions, here.</p><p>            “Get fucking BACK HERE!” You scream after him. Silently, the man cut through the forest with you shouting restlessly after him. You stepped into the light of the setting sun; Leon reached into his pocket but, in your own fit of rage, you launched a rough kick to his back as hard as you can.</p><p>            Leon stumbled forward in a grunt, barely catching himself before he fell. He spun around to face you; the redness in his face was actually enough to send you a few steps backwards, despite yourself.</p><p>            “What do you want from me?” He growled, hands instantly curling into fists. “What’s done is done – there’s no fixing it!”</p><p>            “You could have fixed it! If you had just gave a shit, <em>none of this would have fucking happened</em>! But NO – you’re too busy up on your fucking pedestal while everyone else suffers around you.”</p><p>            “Even <em>if</em> I was there, it wouldn’t have mattered! I just would’ve joined the others in jail and Rose would still walk. This was the best option -”</p><p>            “For <em>you</em>. Everything you do is only <em>for you</em>. You deserve to rot in jail after everything you’ve done!”</p><p>            “What does it fucking matter?!” He turned around, marching forward in an attempt to flee once more. “No matter what I say or do, it’ll never be enough to make you happy, so <em>what does it fucking matter</em>?”</p><p>            You opened your mouth to say something, only to pause just so you can pull a bit at the roots of your hair. You start after him once more.</p><p>            “You always try to tell me that you care – what a crock of shit! What do you care if I’m happy or not?”</p><p>            “I don’t know!” Leon stopped; despite the chill in the air, his skin glinted with a surreal red tint as his blood undoubtedly reached its boiling point. “I don’t know! I don’t know! <em>I don’t know</em>! Alright? But do you know what I <em>really</em> want to know, right now? What the hell are <em>you</em> still doing here?!”</p><p>            Before your brain could even think to consider a better reason, your hand dug into your pocket. Leon’s eyes ignited at just the sight of the Pokeball you reveal. He leaned back a bit, the anger that once resonated through his body smoothly transitioning into a reckless intrigue.</p><p>            “A battle? Against <em>me</em>? You can’t be serious.”</p><p>            “<em>Deathly</em>.”</p><p>            A low chuckle rumbled through the air, his smirk curling more and more with some primal excitement.</p><p>            “You really just don’t know when to quit, do you?”</p><p>            You watched as he reached into his bag and pulled out the capsule on top. Before he could even enlarge the device, you stop him.</p><p>            “Charizard.”</p><p>            “Hm?”</p><p>            “I want to battle your Charizard,” you repeat, this time using actual words.</p><p>            “No-one’s beaten my Charizard. Not even Raihan.”</p><p>            “Victor did.”</p><p>            “That’s different. Victor had a few advantages.”</p><p>            “Like<em> what</em>?”</p><p>            He leaned into his hip, the smile on his face fading inch by inch.</p><p>            “Victor designed his entire team to defeat me. By the time he reached Charizard, he had the type advantage, some skill… and a bit of extra drive to win.”</p><p>            You raised the ball forwards. In a shimmer of light, Vaporeon was released, shaking himself out as he gathered his surroundings. Feeling your energy, it wasn’t long before he steadied himself into a battle-ready stance.</p><p>            Your frown deepened. “Well, look at that – I’ve got the type advantage, I’ve got skill, and I’ve got way too much determination. So fucking accept the challenge.”</p><p>            The gold in his eyes sparkled once more. A grin was quick break out across his face. Leon reached into his pocket – this time, revealing the simple red-and-white Pokéball design. In one smooth, hasty motion, his Charizard was released in a burst of light, who reacted similarly to Vaporeon.</p><p>            “One-on-one,” he called out, voice easily booming from where he stood. “No items, no switch-outs, no battle enhancers. Last Pokemon standing is the winner. Sound fair?”</p><p>            You let your first command be the answer.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>            “<em>No</em>!” You scream out, ignoring the way your voice tears through your already sore throat. “Vaporeon, dodge and come back with Aqua Jet!”</p><p>            Vaporeon jumps into the air, the added propulsion of the water-type attack allowing the Pokemon to just barely avoid Charizard’s Solar Beam. You could easily see the fatigue beginning to take over your partner – you were barely standing, even as the simple trainer. But if you were tired, then surely your opponents were, as well. Looking across the field for a second, ignoring the scorch marks all around the tattered foliage; you can see Charizard moving considerably less than he was before, his trainer covered in a sparkling layer of sweat glistening beneath the rising moon.</p><p>            Your rage shoots up tenfold at the sight of it.</p><p>            How <em>dare</em> he – why does he – <em>why him</em>?!</p><p>            A mindless shriek rattles your bones as you clap your hands together.</p><p>            “Hydro Pump! <em>Full power!</em>”</p><p>            Leon grits his teeth, eyes spilling over with poisonous gold frustration.</p><p>            “Get in the air! Hit back with a Fire Blast the moment you’re ready!”</p><p>            Both Pokemon obeyed, waiting no time getting themselves ready. You could see Vaporen’s Aqua Ring still working it’s magic around your partner, but it can only do so much. Unless Vaporeon can land a critical hit, there’s no way he’ll be able to take another blow. Though Charizard looked a bit shaky himself as he lifted his giant body into the sky, you couldn’t convince yourself that the same was true for your opponents. You learned early on never to trust anything involving Leon at first glance. He was nothing more than a matryoshka of <em>lies</em>.</p><p>            Vaporeon gathered up his energy, taking aim at the fire-type as best he could with how Charizard flew around in no discernible pattern up above. Vaporeon won’t hit him like this. It had to be done at the perfect moment.</p><p>            “Wait for my command,” you manage to call out. You and Vaporeon keep your eyes peels on the fire-type. Out of the corner of your eye, you can feel Leon staring you down, as if waiting for his own opportunity to strike <em>you</em> down.</p><p>            Just as Charizard’s shadow passed over you, the slightest falter in his movements caught your attention.</p><p>            “<em>NOW</em>!!!”</p><p>            “<em>Fire Blast!”</em></p><p>            The two sent off their respective techniques in unison. Water met fire – a flurry of scalding water came shooting down to the earth, the glare from those two moves meeting together blinding you with a light unlike any other. You staggered backwards, blinking away tears while trying to gather your bearings. Something catches your heel and you fall, spinning around just in time to land on your side instead of your ass; the light settles just enough for you to make out the world around you.</p><p>            In the center of the field, both Charizard and Vaporeon standing facing one another, panting in exhaustion as they struggle to keep standing.</p><p>            Leon holds himself upright on a log, rubbing his eyes with his forearm before looking out at the outcome. The initial shock on his face soon gives way to complete vexation. It isn’t long before that look of hate transfers over to you.</p><p>            “What?” He calls out, picking himself back up. “It’s a draw – nobody’s winning this. Call back your Pokemon.”</p><p>            “You first.”</p><p>            “<em>Why</em>?”</p><p>            You glare in response. You can hear his growling even from so far away; Leon angrily returns Charizard before throwing his arms out.</p><p>            “<em>There</em>!” He shouts out to you. “It’s over – it’s a <em>draw</em>!”</p><p>            You whistle and your partner waddles back to your side. You give him a couple pats on his forehead before recalling him.</p><p>            Leon was still glaring at you from where he stood. You unconsciously straightened up when you returned the gesture, ignoring the aches of your tired muscles as you held your ground. Eventually, Leon let out a gravelly sigh, glancing up at the darkening sky as he did so.</p><p>            “Go home, already,” he rubbed his face. “There’s nothing for you, here.”</p><p>            While you were definitely in agreement with that statement (what really else was there for you to gain here?), you stepped forward. Your body seemed to have other plans.</p><p>            “So that’s it? You’re really just turning your back on the region you spent your <em>whole</em> career saying you’d protect?”</p><p>            “I never said that.”</p><p>            “Well, your actions sure as hell are.”</p><p>            His frown deepened as you took another step forward.</p><p>            “Oh, so you suddenly understand my every step and move? Make up your mind, already – do you understand me or not?”</p><p>            “I’m starting to think that <em>you</em> don’t even understand yourself, Leon.” Soon enough, you’re standing right in front of him, not missing the way his eyes narrow in on your smaller frame. “You said we were the same, once. But I know <em>exactly</em> what I am. What are <em>you</em>?”</p><p>            “Nothing.”</p><p>            “Yeah – but what is ‘nothing’ to you? In your version of reality, what does ‘nothing’ even mean?”</p><p>            You watched his eyes widen a bit. He leaned back, as if physically taken aback by your words. The cogs were turning in his eyes, no doubt trying to find a decent answer as quickly as before, but nothing was coming. Eventually, though, he took a different approach.</p><p>            “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you can’t use battle enhancers.” </p><p>            “Uhg, <em>this</em> again? Haven’t I told you enough times already that I physically <em>can’t</em>?”</p><p>            “I know that. But…” he trailed off, seeming a bit unsure of how to phrase his words. “... If it’s what I think it is, then…”</p><p>            You step forward, knuckles white from how tight of fists you were making.</p><p>            “What, then? <em>What is it</em>? You think you know everything about me? <em>Prove it!”</em></p><p>            His lips were pursed into a tight line, obviously deliberating on whether or not to say what was on the tip of his tongue. But when you refused to back down, he let out a harsh exhale.</p><p>            “You’re wea –”</p><p>            He hardly moved an inch despite the fact that you slapped him with all the force you could muster up in that instant. The man simply stared back down at you, golden eyes now shrouded into a dark, foreboding black void. It did nothing to ease the uncontrollable anger in your body; you motioned to hit him once again, but this time he caught your wrist.</p><p>            “You get <em>one</em>,” he hissed at you, pushing you aside like you were – like you were just – “Just get out of here before you actually hurt yourself.”</p><p>            You stumbled backwards from the force of his shove; by the time you got up, you could just barely see the waves of his purple hair trailing behind him as he moved into another set of bushes.</p><p>            There was no point in thinking things over – there was no other thought left in your mind. All you could think of was just <em>Leon </em>and <em>Hurt</em> and <em>WEAK.</em></p><p>            Your reality was tinged with streaks of red and white as you tore through the bushes, honing in on your escaping target. Leon’s secluded camp resided not too far away; you could see him catch sight of you before he opted to toss his bag into the tent and motion to crawl inside. Just as he knelt down, you grabbed the back of his collar, pulling him backwards as hard as you could, taking delight in the way his head slammed onto the grass below.</p><p>            “Oh, so I’m <em>weak</em>? You think I’m <em>weak</em>?! I’m <em>five times </em>the person you’d <em>ever</em> be! Don’t act like you know <em>anything</em> about what I’ve been through!”</p><p>            “You’re one to talk!” he lashed out in kind, sitting upright. “You talk so high and mighty about how horrible I am – nobody even <em>knows </em>who you really are!”</p><p>            “And nobody <em>should</em>! I’ll be whoever the fuck I wanna be, and so long as that’s a good person, then what does it matter?”</p><p>            “Because it’s not the truth!”</p><p>            “What do <em>you</em> care about the truth, Leon?”</p><p>            “Unlike <em>you</em>, I don’t actually <em>like</em> lying to people! I do it because if I said the truth, more people would get hurt. <em>You</em>, on the other hand, I can’t tell if you’re even telling the truth about <em>your own name</em>.”</p><p>            “So I’m a liar now, too? Just add it to the goddamn list of everything you know about me!”</p><p>            He halts for a moment; the redness all over his skin boils with a rage unlike anything you’ve seen from someone. He’s holding back. And despite the fact that it’s probably for everyone’s own good, you find yourself even <em>more </em>annoyed because of it.</p><p>            <em>Don’t you dare go easy on me – I can take it</em></p><p>            “Because you’re <em>Leon</em> – you know <em>everything</em>,” you lean forward, seeing the way he’s physically biting his lips to keep from saying anything more. “When really, you’re only right about <em>one thing</em>. You’re <em>nothing</em>. You love <em>nothing</em>. You are <em>nothing</em>.” You can <em>physically</em> see the exact moment all sense of restraint snaps in his eyes, and yet you still don’t think to run. “Congratulations, Leon – you’re the champion of noth –”</p><p>Suddenly, you’re on your back, struggling to get air back into your lungs. The bastard <em>pushed</em> you. You’re blinking away the daze from your eyes, slowly seeing the exact predicament that you and you alone put yourself in. The moon and night’s sky is replaced with the dark fabric of the tent, the rest of your immediate surroundings hidden from sight due to the amount of wavy purple strands framing your face. You quickly process all that’s happening, heaving hot, heavy breaths despite yourself.</p><p>            With the way he’s got your legs trapped underneath his own, his hands wrapped tight around your wrists, his eyes eating up your entire body from top to bottom, you knew that there was no getting out of this. Your only means of salvation would be one of two things: your words, which had gotten you into this exact position in the first place, or his mercy, which had a similarly bad reputation. The two of you locked eyes, and your stomach burned with the desire that practically oozed from his murky golden irises.</p><p>            Unfortunately, it became apparent that you both were thinking the same thing.</p><p>            “What’re you waiting for?” Your voice felt so unfamiliar like this, dressed thick in a near wanton whisper. “You’re already damned. What’s one more terrible sin to add to your list?”</p><p>            “I could never hurt you,” he heaved out. “But you don’t know just how hard it is to hold myself back from you.”</p><p>            Because he’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and you can <em>feel</em> that terrible pull rip through your stomach with more intensity than ever before in your life, you can’t help but poke the fire.</p><p>            “Then what’s stopping you?”</p><p>            “I want you,” At long last, the words finally left his lips. “And I want you to want me, too.”</p><p>            “I <em>hate</em> you.”</p><p>            “I know. But do you <em>want </em>me?”</p><p>            Your eyes widen a bit. He hasn’t moved an inch, and keeps his eyes glued to your own. Every breath you take only adds to the flames that burn out of control between you both. It burns through all your resolve, all your restraint, and all your better judgement. There’s no other option. You refuse to accept anything less than him.</p><p>            “<em>Yes</em>.”</p><p>            Suddenly your hands are free and are tangling up in his purple locks as he pushes himself hard against your body. All the air between you is reduced to nothing once his lips find yours in a painful kiss. He’s moving and caressing and rutting and it honestly takes all of your focus not to completely lose yourself in his touch. You can taste every groan and huff on his tongue, and every time he squeezes your love handles you can’t help but tug his hair in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. Neither of you seem to care about gentility – every touch meant to burn, every kiss meant to bruise, every grasp meant to ache The world around you no longer seems to exist. All you know is <em>him</em>.</p><p>            He moves his lips to your cheek, choking out a grunt as a hand claws up your leg. It takes all your strength not to moan when he presses his hips firmly against you, his hand giving a firm squeeze to the top of your thigh. You both lock eyes again, and you can see the slightest of frowns on his face, as if he were expecting more of a reaction. A glare is all he receives. You can barely catch you breath when he suddenly pulls back, taking your shorts and underwear with him as he pulls only one of your legs free from the fabric. He falls right back on top of you, chest heaving rapidly as his hand disappears underneath him. You hear a zipper, then a frustrated hiss, then next thing you know, you’re screaming into his hand as he suddenly and forcefully sheaths himself inside.</p><p>            Every hate-filled thrust throws your vision into starry whiteness. He grunts loudly into your ear, taking his time to pull out as far as possible before jamming his thick length right back in. Your hands claw at the shirt he neglected to remove as he presses his face closer and closer into your ear.</p><p>            And then he just stops.</p><p>            You blink in confusion, struggling to catch your breath as your body damn near screams in protest. You try to look at him, but he’s hiding his face. You can feel the smirk he undoubtedly wears as he huffs darkly into your ear.</p><p>            “<em>Beg</em>. I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you.”</p><p>            You loathe the way his words nearly make you cum right then and there. But two can play at this game. With strength you didn’t know that you had, you gave him a rough squeeze from within. Leon gasps, but you don’t have time to celebrate because he’s immediately growling much too loud and pins your wrists down once more to sit himself up. You drown in the venom of his glare.</p><p>            “Look at who’s on their knees right now, Leon,” you hiss out, hips instinctively rising a bit in frustration, “and then tell me who should be begging.”</p><p>            That look – that <em>dangerous</em> look in his eyes as he smirks down at you nearly has you whining. But you hold on just enough for him to begin moving again, much more gentle this time. His hips press forwards in circular movements, and his moans into the air as he looks down at you is downright sinful. You find yourself pushing back against him, eager to take all he has to offer. He drags both of your arms up above your head one and a time, trapping them beneath his left hand before sliding his right gracefully towards your conjoined bodies. The look he gives you as he rubs firm circles around your clit has your head slamming backwards. You can’t fight the moans any longer. Every bit of your stubborn resilience has been entirely pulled out of you, leaving only a crying mess on the floor beneath him. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that he’s watching you mewl in pleasure, nor do you need to feel his muscular chest to know that he’s breathing in perfect sync with you. A forbidden sort of harmony settles between you, but it’s a harmony unlike any other.</p><p>            The moment your hands are free once more, you pull him closer. He sinks to his elbows, letting his lips just barely graze over yours with every thrust. He’s absolutely perfect like this, with his brow furrowed in concentration and his lips parted ever so slightly. So of course you want to screw it all up.</p><p>            “Don’t you dare cum inside me,” you breathe into his mouth.</p><p>            “What happens if I do?”</p><p>            “I’ll – <em>mmph</em> – I’ll cut your fucking dick off.”</p><p>            He chuckles a bit at that, keeping his steady pace as he presses a firm kiss against your lips.</p><p>            “I don’t think you realize… Just how tempting you are like this.” He pauses to give you a deeper kiss, taking his time raking his hot tongue across your own. “I’d do <em>anything</em> to have every last bit of you, to give you every last bit of myself.”</p><p>            “Then <em>prove it</em>.”</p><p>            He’s pressed himself completely on you once more, losing himself in the taste of your mouth. His every moan gives you life, and the way his hands are cupping your cheeks has you sure that you’d die if he wasn’t holding so desperately onto you. A part of you wonders if his saliva is some kind of drug, because the moment he lifts himself up to breath, you can’t stop moaning his name. That terrible tension in your lower abdomen betrays your trust, unraveling without any warning and forcing a strangled cry from your throat. Leon suddenly gasps, pushing himself up and out of you just in time to release his load onto your lower stomach. His jaw clenched so perfectly tight, his eyes focused entirely on getting every last drop of his cum onto your body, his breathing filling the silence more than anything ever has – it’s all so much to handle. Suddenly, he glints up at you.</p><p>            “Next time,” he huffs, “I won’t be so nice.”</p><p>            If this was him being nice, you <em>really</em> didn’t want to see him when he wasn’t. You try not to think about that, though, as waves of pleasure are still pumping through you with every heartbeat. You sew your eyes shut, and indulge a little longer in that brilliant afterglow.</p><p>            When you finally open your eyes, you see Leon staring down at you, still gathering his bearings. He slowly leans back, taking heavy breaths as he looks you over from top to bottom. You’re sure that the smell of sweat and love was affecting him just as much as it was you.</p><p>            It wasn’t much longer before he eventually brushed his hair away from his face and tucked himself back into his pants. You watched mindlessly as he took a few more breaths and promptly crawled out of the tent.</p><p>            A bitter scoff left your lips. You leaned back onto the ground, resolving to get yourself cleaned up in a few minutes. The high was starting to fade away, now, and all the pain from your… <em>shenanigans</em>… was hitting you all terminal velocity. You were just working up the courage to assess the damage when Leon suddenly peeked his head back into the tent, a – dare you say – <em>nervous</em> expression on his face. When you didn’t immediately curse him out, he nestled inside, revealing a wet cloth in his hands.</p><p>            You really didn’t know what to think right then. So you opted to simply observe, watching him as he wiped your exposed skin with a tenderness unlike anything you’ve ever experienced in your life. He kept his eyes focused on his movements; was he avoiding you purposefully or was he so focused that he didn’t notice your staring entirely? The answer evaded you. Once satisfied, he helped you back into your bottoms and picked up a blanket from the far end of the tent. Yet again, Leon has succeeded in giving you the most intense bout of whiplash possible, as he pulled the blanket over both of your bodies and pulled you snug against his chest. You felt his huff of approval from behind you, his warm breath brushing the hairs at the back of your neck.</p><p>            “I’m a rotten man,” he whispered into your skin, “and knowing you has made that too difficult to handle any longer.”</p><p>            “So what are you gonna do about it?”</p><p>            “Whatever it takes.”</p><p>            You were content to sleep with that sentiment in mind when Leon suddenly sighs, pulling you a little tighter against him.</p><p>            “And… I’ve realized something else.”</p><p>            You hum inquisitively, not really sure what to expect. You can hear his breathing slow by the second, and you were no different. Sleep was so close to you both, now, and yet this wild realization couldn’t wait until the morning?</p><p>            “I’m terribly in love with you.”</p><p>            <em>Oh</em>.</p><p>            Suddenly, sleep didn’t seem so close anymore.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaaand that makes three - we have now gotten the trio to fall in love with us! Surely this won't end badly~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Totally Normal, Incredibly Casual Conversations Between Two Remarkably Averages People in the Most Mundane of Scenarios</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite all the circles your mind was dragging you through several hours, your tired body eventually warranted some sleep for you, after all. It wasn’t long before the soft warmth of morning heated up the world around you (not like it really needed to be any warmer right now, all things considered), spurring you slowly with the gentle light that crept into the tent. Memories from the night before quickly took the entirety of your attention as you try to squirm out of Leon’s all-encompassing hold. Unfortunately, it seems as though even in his sleep, he’s not letting you go any time soon. After a few minutes of trying to wake him, you eventually slump back into the blankets with a huff. You’d just have to wait.</p><p>You’re not too sure how much more time passes – perhaps an hour, perhaps only a few minutes. Regardless, when Leon suddenly takes a deep breath, you quickly try to sit yourself up.</p><p>“... Do you <em>ever</em> relax?” he huffed out, voice sounding far too rich and gravelly for you to be comfortable with.</p><p>“Not around you.”</p><p>He chuckled, eventually loosening his grip enough for you to squirm free.</p><p>“Well, that’s rather forward of you.”</p><p>You clicked your tongue, passing him a frustrated glance as you stretched out your arms.</p><p>“Not a compliment, Leon.”</p><p>He let out a simple “<em>Oh</em>” and you left it at that. You gave your legs a cautionary stretch, already dreading the walk back to Motostoke with how sore you felt. But the memories of all <em>that</em> was nearly enough to give you an instant migraine, so you tried to focus instead of something else.</p><p>Like the giant shit-storm situation you’ve single-handedly managed to put yourself into.</p><p>Before you could crawl out of the tent to have your nearing mental breakdown in peace, Leon awkwardly cleared his throat. Ah, yup, that headache is here to stay, now, just looking at the weird expression on the man’s face.</p><p>“So, uh…” he started, giving pause to think of words. A few breaths of silence, along with his eyes scanning the area, gave you the impression that words weren’t exactly coming to him. “I, uh… Well… we should, um…”</p><p>Part of you is more than content to just sit there and watch him struggle with language for a while more, but eventually Leon gets his shit together, running his hands through his slightly curling hair.</p><p>“Did you sleep alright?”</p><p>You flick up an eyebrow.</p><p>“Really? <em>That’s</em> how you’re gonna start off this conversation?”</p><p>“It was the best option, trust me…” he mutters, looking to the side for a second.</p><p>“Arceus, you really <em>don’t</em> know how to talk to women, do you?”</p><p>“Can’t say I’ve had much experience in this exact context.”</p><p>A laugh sneaks out of your mouth. You raise a hand to your lips, glancing to the side in hopes of your slip-up being ignored. You miss the way Leon’s eyes spark just a bit at that. Before you can say something to change the topic, Leon leans forward just a bit, hesitating all the while.</p><p>“I... don’t think I’ve ever been so confused about something before. It feels like everything’s been so easy to discern and describe for so many years – I’ve been able to make split-second decisions on people so easily before, but now… You’ve totally turned everything upside-down for me. I don’t really even know if that’s a <em>good</em> thing.”</p><p>"Probably not.”</p><p>“<em>Definitely</em> not,” he extends a hand towards you. For once, you ignore the immediate want to bat it away; his fingertips gently graze the side of your cheek, gingerly taking your face in his large, calloused hand. “Someone like you is bound to be the end of me… And yet, I don’t know if I can handle being without you for much longer.”</p><p>You pull against him when he tries to pull you towards him. His eyes lock with yours, stopping time for the briefest of moments.</p><p>“I still don’t trust you,” you eventually say. “Much less have I even <em>considered</em> forgiving you.”</p><p>“I’d expect nothing less from you.”</p><p>“<em>So,</em>” you move out of his hold, much to his visible disappointment, “don’t go saying stuff like that and expect me to reciprocate.”</p><p>A playful smirk quickly rises to his face.</p><p>“So, you’d rather I say more degrading stuff, then? You reciprocated <em>that</em> pretty well last night.”</p><p>“That doesn’t count!” you huff, hoping you weren’t as red as you felt. “Totally different! Hate-fucks don’t count.”</p><p>“<em>Sure</em> they don’t.”</p><p>“They <em>don’t</em>!”</p><p>Leon snickers.</p><p>“Well, I guess that’s alright. To be honest, I don’t think it matters anymore. Hate me or love me – I don’t care. Just don’t leave me.”</p><p>You purse your lips at those words.</p><p>And because you’re you, a professional asshole, you quickly make your way out of the tent. Leon calls after you, quickly catching up and pulling you back to face him in no time at all.</p><p>“But seriously,” he grabs your shoulders, trying to catch your eyes, “I know I can’t ever really make things right. Even putting my feelings for you aside, I still want to help salvage this region. That’s why I’ve got my own plan to help, from the sidelines.” Before you could inquire, he continued. “I’ve told Victor everything I know so that he and the others can protect the region. You should hear it, too.”</p><p>His eyes seemed almost pleading, as if he could reach your heart that way. A strange transparency could be seen there that previously had never been available to you. Almost sparkling with earnestness and flecks of platinum – he was telling the truth, being <em>genuine</em>. A part of you worried that seeing Leon for who he really was would bring you to some other terrible conclusion. But it wasn’t like you could decline his offer – after all, you would need whatever he had to say if you wanted to protect the people you cared about. It was a tough pill to swallow, but you nodded, letting the ex-champion gently guide you back to the tent.</p><p>           </p><p>Leon told you everything he knew – everything about his time as a two-faced champion, his understanding of the VMax experiments, the truth about Gloria – everything. In the end, you were still frowning, rubbing your temple in an attempt to process all <em>that</em>. This was all beginning to feel like someone’s overzealous conspiracy theory that they typed up at 2AM onto Reddit while in a Monster and meth induced frenzy. Except it was all, unfortunately, really happening. You never thought something could really be <em>worse</em> than your own events as a child, but here we are…</p><p>“Shit…” you exhaled, shaking your head slightly. “If Rose was able to get away with all that, then… How the hell are we gonna figure out a way to get him <em>now</em>?”</p><p>“No doubt he’s laying low for a while to try and get attention off of him. But I’m certain that he’ll be back sooner than we’d hope, if he isn’t already plotting some way to get rid of everyone who’s wronged him.”</p><p>You shut your eyes, trying to think. <em>Victor. Hop. Marnie. Piers. Shit, maybe even me. And probably others, too. There’s gotta be a way to stop Rose before it’s too late.</em></p><p>“I…” the man speaks up, but his voice falters just a bit when you look up at him. “... I know that… well… <em>erm</em>… I don’t know all that’s gone on in the region during the time I’ve been gone, but I do know that when Rose makes his return, it’ll be a big one. And not to sound overly pretentious, but I think that I’m the only person free who knows how he thinks.”</p><p>You don’t like how true that is; your grimace tightens.</p><p>“Unfortunately, you’re right. But this isn’t your operation, Leon – we’re going to get as many league members as we can and -”</p><p>“Be careful with that. We don’t exactly know who’s on what team, here. As much as we want to believe that all pokemon trainers are just and good… they <em>are</em> a part of Rose’s League. We can only reach out to people we can absolutely trust with this.”</p><p>“So people who already know, then.” You count the names in your head. “We’ll just have to make it work.” Eventually you straighten up. “In that case, we’ve got a ticking clock. I’ll gather up who I can trust and work on organizing a mission to take down the Chairman once and for all.”</p><p>Just as you motion to leave, a thought pricks your mind. A rather <em>unfortunate</em> thought. You almost think to just ignore it, but it seems as though you’ve hesitated a bit too long for it to be natural. Leon leans towards you with inquisitive eyes.</p><p>“Something the matter?”</p><p>“... if Rose decides to hunt us down, then...” you say slowly, suddenly unsure about continuing the thought, “... it might be best if we refrain from being in groups of one. At least for a while.”</p><p>Leon smirks and you <em>hate it</em>.</p><p>“Then lead the way.”</p><p>Yeah, this was going to be a problem. You quickly made a mental reminder of one very simple thing: none of the boys can know about this “<em>recent development”</em>, or else you might find yourself in literally the worst scenario possible.</p><p>What ever happened to Super Happy Fun Times, anyways?</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It took a few tries to get an actual person to answer the call. The whole process was really much too complex, and Rose couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit frustrated at it all. But all things considered, it wasn’t <em>entirely</em> uncalled for. Fame always requires many preventative measures to protect oneself – the same must be true for infamy, too.</p><p>“Hello,” a woman’s voice sang into the receiver, “and thank you for calling the Veilstone Game Corner! How can I help you today?”</p><p>“Hello – I’m hoping to speak with an old friend of mine who might be around. Would it be too much to ask if you could get him for me?”</p><p>“Why, of course, sir! What’s the name of the person in mind?”</p><p>“One Mr. Giovanni Caito, if you please.”</p><p>The line went silent for a good minute. Rose began to wonder if he was hung up on yet again when the woman suddenly cleared her throat.</p><p>“W-well, uh… I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. We don’t have anyone by the name of Giovanni employed here.”</p><p>Rose chuckled good-naturedly. “Of course you don’t, my dear. He’s not an employee, but an <em>employer</em>. Now, be a good girl and go fetch him or one of his administrators for me, won’t you? Tell him that Rose sent you. Try not to keep me waiting much longer, dear – I have had quite a busy day.”</p><p>“I-I, um… I-I’ll see what I… I’ll see what I can do, sir…”</p><p>With that, he was quickly placed on hold, some light jazz music wafting in through the speakers. Rose leaned back in his seat, absentmindedly looking over his nails. Quality employees are so hard to find these days. That woman made it far too obvious that Giovanni was there – back in the day, she would’ve been dealt with before she even put down the phone. But alas, times have changed, even for the scum of the earth. As much as he internally cringed at the idea of asking some lowlife gangster for help, Rose found himself running out of options. He reminded himself not to be picky – it would all be worth it, in time.</p><p>The hold music quickly vanished, replaced instead with a young male’s voice.</p><p>“What’s the name again?” this voice asked, sounding remarkably bored with life.</p><p>Rose resisted the urge to chuckle once again. However, he played nice; he offered up his first and last name without much hassle. The sounds of pen on paper somewhere, followed by a hum of approval.</p><p>“And is there a message you’d like to send just in case we can’t get a hold of the person in question?”</p><p><em>This wouldn’t be so tedious if these people livened up a bit,</em> Rose thought to himself. But again, looking at the facts, he couldn’t be so surprised.</p><p>“Nothing much – just let him know that I was reminiscing on old times and was wondering if he ever did make it to the stars.”</p><p>Rose waited, listening to more sounds of scratching and rustling. Hushed whispers in the distance, loud footsteps… Silence follows soon after. It isn’t long before the male’s voice picks up again, the creaking of a door signaling his return.</p><p>“Well, look at that,” the man sighed, “we managed to find him after all.”</p><p>“Marvelous.”</p><p>It isn’t long before a new voice takes the scene, gruff and haughty, no doubt matched by the swirls of gray smoke that take over the space.</p><p>“Well, then, if <em>this</em> isn’t a surprise… What have I done to warrant a call from you after all these years, Rose?”</p><p>“Is it so wrong to call my old business partner? At least at a <em>bit</em> of faith in me, old sport…”</p><p>Giovanni scoffed.</p><p>“Don’t act so surprised. Your name was plastered all over the world for quite some time. It’s about time you got yourself in trouble.” Rose couldn’t help but shrug. Giovanni <em>did</em> have a point there. “But I’ve got to say; I’m a bit impressed you managed to snake your way out of that. Must be nice to still have big connections up top.”</p><p>“That’s because I’ve learned to be quite patient. My plans require the utmost delicacy, you know – time is nothing when dreams are on the line.”</p><p>“<em>Ugh</em>, and it sounds as though you’re still an annoying bastard. Why waste my time with formalities when I can just take whatever it is I want? Screw all that red-tape-bureaucracy bullshit – illegal is always faster.”</p><p>“In some cases, yes – but that is quite unlikely to help me achieve my goals. Which reminds me…”</p><p>Giovanni groaned, audibly snubbing out his cigar.</p><p>“Ah<em> here it comes</em>…”</p><p>“You’re quite aware of my situation here in Galar, I’m sure. With things the way they are now, there’s no conceivable way for me to attain my dreams. With time, Galar will fall into ruin, and without our innovations and markets, many other regions are sure to suffer similarly. All will be lost. Though my legal team worked wonders during the trial, there is no doubt that many people will view both my administration and the gym challenge with increased skepticism. I need to reinsert myself into the good graces of the Galarian people.”</p><p>“Can you get on with it, already?”</p><p>The businessman brushes aside some hair from his brow. “I’m getting there, old sport, I’m getting there. You see, even if I keep my record clear for years to come, there are some people here who are more than ready to strike me down the first chance they get. Pokemon trainers who have already been quite difficult to deal with before will return with a vengeance. And while I might have been able to deal with them all myself before, it is simply too risky to try and fight them all now.”</p><p>Giovanni quickly caught on.</p><p>“It’s always trainers. Something in our brains makes us all crave a bit of chaos, eh?”</p><p>“Indeed. Now, of course, I wouldn’t expect you to do this out of the goodness of your heart – any man in his right mind wouldn’t. But I know a way we can <em>both</em> see progress made towards our greatest dreams in just a matter of months.”</p><p>An intrigued hum rang out.</p><p>“This just got interesting. But it’s been some years since we last spoke, Rose – in that time, I have already made plenty of progress. It’s safe to say that I’ve got my own arsenal of powerful, incredibly rare pokemon at my command. What could you <em>possibly</em> have to offer me in that tiny region of yours?”</p><p>“Well… while it’s true that Galar doesn’t have a wild assortment of mythical and legendary pokemon indigenous to our region, there may be three powerful legendary pokemon that will add wonders to your team. Do you, old sport, happen to have any pokemon from another planet?”</p><p>“... Go on.”</p><p>“Eliminate these trainers for me,” Rose grinned, “and this extraterrestrial creature – along with two other powerful pokemon – will be in your possession. That is my offer.”</p><p>The crime lord paused, quite obviously mulling it all over. After nearly thirty whole seconds of silence, Giovanni mutters a gruff “Do I have time to think this deal over?”</p><p>A simple “Not really” is all Rose replies, further amused by the frustrated grumbling he received from the older man.</p><p>“Dammit…” Giovanni eventually hissed out. “I always told myself never to make a deal with the devil, and yet here I am, actually considering it… But I suppose my time in Sinnoh is just about at its end, anyways.”</p><p>“So is that a ‘yes?’”</p><p>“... Fuck, I guess it is. Deal’s on. But you’d better watch yourself, Rose – once I’m in town, I don’t want any funny business from you or your lackies. I’ll get my grunts to take care of your list, get my pokemon, and that’s <em>it</em>. Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to smash your skull in if I so much as <em>think</em> you’re wanting to double-cross me.”</p><p>Rose rolled his eyes in silence. <em>Awfully crude – then again, with a brain as dull as his, I shouldn’t be so surprised.</em></p><p>“Rest easy, old sport – I promise you, I’m not partial to the idea of cheating you out of a fair trade. I hope you’ll employ the same mindset for me, as well.”</p><p>“I can make it work – a challenge like this is <em>just</em> what Rainbow Rocket needs to get our name back into nightmares of everyone, everywhere!”</p><p>Rose nodded. Just before he signaled the end of the conversation, he remembered something. An old article he had stumbled upon a few years ago, but one that might be worth bringing up now…</p><p>“Say, Giovanni – about your previous stunts in the Alola region… Do you still have access to some of that technology?”</p><p>“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Who’s asking?”</p><p>“<em>I am</em>. But, if you <em>do</em> have that technology still, then it might give you a bit of an advantage against one of the trainers I’m particularly curious about…”</p><p>“I’ll see what I can do. In that case, I’ve got some other business to deal with. We’ll talk more about this later.”</p><p>“I look forward to it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooo y'all, we having a GREAT time over here - just everyone making the GREATEST of decisions EVER MADE it's so amaze lololol</p><p>also totally not even gonna lie, but next chapter is supposed to make all y'all cry jfhdjghfhgfdjhjgd get ur tissues in advance hehehehe</p><p>thanks for reading y'all~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. The Pokemon-Trainer Equivalent to Opening the Door to Persistent Salesmen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>time for sad boy hours, y'all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The calm settled over Hop’s shoulders, draping over the world around him like some surreal, mystical curtain. It was strange – he had gone down Routes 1 and 2 for years, now, but it had never felt so… <em>odd</em>? Perhaps it was that terrible nostalgia of simpler memories that churned in his stomach. Images that rivaled that of his greatest fantasies and darkest nightmares now made one with his memories, locking the youth into this sense of knowingness that numbed his brain beyond words. This was the path he took many times before, yes. But it was <em>different</em>, now. Somehow. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know the <em>how</em> but he was sure of the <em>what</em> – all these years of walking to the Lab and he’d never noticed the stream off in the distance, the same one that led all the way up to the lake by the Lab? All these years and he’d never noticed the faint smell of cedar and oak that swirled into the deepest parts of his lungs – he’d never noticed the repetitive songs of the Rookiedee up above, singing the same four notes over and over and <em>over </em>again – he’d never noticed the firmness of the earth below his feet, how nothing could ever grow again from years of being trampled by the shoes of children.</p><p>That thought made him hesitate.</p><p>
  <em>Trampled by the shoes of children.</em>
</p><p>… <em>He</em> was one of those children, wasn’t he? Why was it that he couldn’t feel that same ignorance from then, but instead suffocated from the silent forbearance of the dirt below? Hop couldn’t find an answer; it seemed so close for a moment, only to be lost in the wispy words of the flying-types above.</p><p>A gentle nudge from the side caught his attention. Dubwool gave a hearty <em>baa</em>, his noises now much deeper after his evolution, head tilting inquisitively at his trainer.</p><p>"A-ah, right, sorry, mate,” Hop chuckled, giving Dubwool a loving scruff on the head. “Let’s keep going.”</p><p>Despite his best efforts, the boy could not escape the cruelty of his memories. When he looked at the sprawling Wooloo fields he used to visit all the time years ago, he instead remembered when his doubts led him to pocketing Wooloo for countless battles. When he looked up for comfort in the fluffy clouds up in the sky, he remembered when the world he knew was drenched in an eternal darkness with only a rusted sword in his hands to fix it all. And when Hop finally grew tired of looking at the world and thinking of his own fears, he dropped his gaze to the ground, watching his feet move one after the other. Then, all he could think of his own foolish path, how he dared to let himself believe that he could ever amount to anything more than just <em>Hop</em>.</p><p>Yeah, who was he kidding – was he even <em>that</em> anymore?</p><p>Hardly. At least the old Hop was vibrant all the way through, a single-minded fool who saw even his own dreamland through rose-colored glasses. It was amusing, at best – it was <em>cute</em>. Cute like those baby pokemon you see at Poke-Mill stores – the ones giddy to be adopted, only to be taken away when it’s apparent that nobody’s in need of yet another home decoration, the ones never to be seen again when their species is out of style. These days, Hop could hardly recognize himself in the mirror. He’d smile for his family, smile to his friends, but nothing more. He’d become just another walking-talking doll, reticent and wretched as he wandered through his old routines he’d long-since outgrown.</p><p>Hop quickly sighed that thought away. He gave his head a little shake that caught the attention of his partner pokemon, but only quickened his pace down the route. As much as he’d love to be dark and brooding a while longer, he needed to pick himself up. Sonia and the professor may be busy as they pick up their winter-season research, but Hop wouldn’t hear the end of it if either of them so much as <em>smelled</em> the boy’s gloom. Then they’d probably tell his mom, and that’s a whole other can of Wurmples that he’d rather not think about. Hop threw on a half-smile to get himself mentally ready, tugged on the strap of his satchel that his mother filled with goodies and recipes for Sonia, and continued forward.</p><p>The boy shuffled through another patch of tall grass, grateful to have found a Max Repel before heading out so he wouldn’t have to deal with constant interruptions. He looked around, finding a sudden silence all around him. When did the bird pokemon stop singing?</p><p>Dubwool halted in his steps, glancing around cautiously. Hop acted similarly, peering between trees and bushes from where he stood. They waited.</p><p>A breeze swept through his hair almost teasingly. This wasn’t just his own hopelessness being projected onto the world – something was <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>“... Dubwo –”</p><p>
  <em>SNAP!</em>
</p><p>A twig in the distance pulled both Hop and Dubwool’s attention. The two spun around. Just as he looked at the direction of the down, a squeal was snagged out of his throat as he threw himself backwards to the ground. A large, strong-looking Dark Pulse attack went spiraling into a tree behind him. The entire tree came down.</p><p>Dubwool was immediately on the case, launching forward with a Headbutt. Hop pushed himself back upright, hand clutching his chest in a fumbling attempt to quell his racing heartbeat; up ahead, he could see shadows emerging from behind the trees, circling around Dubwool. Several Houndoom growling darkly at the pokemon, followed shortly by their trainers. Dark clothes, uniform hats, sinister glares, red upper-arm band, and a large rainbow ‘R’ insignia on their chests…</p><p>Hop paled. <em>W-wait a second… I recognize those uniforms!</em><br/>“You would think that the ex-champion’s baby brother would be a bit harder to track,” one of the grunts laughed. “Definitely made our job easier.”</p><p>“Team Rocket?! What are you guys doing here?”</p><p>One of the grunts opened his mouth to answer, only for a female grunt to cut him off.</p><p>“What the hell do you think we’re here for? We’re Team <em>Rocket</em> – we’re here to cause trouble, that’s what!” She looked over at the pack of Houndoom. “Get ‘im!”</p><p>Howls unified their attack; the Houndoom sent out several blasts of Dark Pulses. Hop and Dubwool split, both narrowly dodging blast after blast. One landed close to the youth’s foot, sending him tumbling forward as he threw his hands up to protect his face. Disorientation rattled his brain. Knees trembling, hands grasping – all while the horde of dark-fire-types stalked closer. A loud <em>bah</em> in the distance was enough to bring Hop back to his senses. He pushed himself back up, wiping the sweat from his brow.</p><p>“Dubwool, Zen Headbutt the whole pack!”</p><p>Before the Houndoom could think to react, Dubwool charged through their rank, launching several whining pokemon into the air from the sheer force. Hop took the chance to jump to his feet, pulling out another Pokéball from his pocket to assist. In a blast of light, Cinderace shook himself in preparation for a fight, and was not disappointed to see a big one waiting for him.</p><p>Another grunt, an older male, stepped forward.</p><p>“We’ve got better things to do than play with little kids – Houndoom, teach him a thing ‘r too!”</p><p>Another Houndoom rushed from the shadows, prepping a Flamethrower attack. A strategic counter was on the tip of Hop’s tongue just as the move shot out.</p><p>His words never made it out of his mouth, though, as the blast of fire was headed straight towards him.</p><p>Cinderace knocked Hop out of the way just in time, the two tumbling into a bush as the trees behind where they once stood lit up in flames. Thorns and brambles stabbed into the youth’s back and palms as he struggled to push himself upright, watching in terror as the pokemon readied more attacks towards him. Dubwool raced into the fray once more, knocking away as many Houndoom as he could, but there were simply too many. Where three Houndoom would be knocked out, five more took their place. It wasn’t long before Hop was entirely surrounded. Cinderace glanced around eyeing up the entire horde with foolish determination, only for Hop to pull him back a bit.</p><p>“We’re not gonna win this, mate,” the youth gasped, “there’s no way…”</p><p>From the depths of the pack came the team of grunts, the female leading the way as she offered Hop a cruel smirk.</p><p>“I was afraid you’d be dumb enough to think you <em>could</em> win. Now, be a good boy and come with us.”</p><p>Nets and ropes in their hands, vicious grins of victory on their faces, there was nothing more Hop could do. He was just ‘Hop’, after all.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Sonia? Sonia, dear…” the elderly professor peeked her head through the crack of the door. “Has Hop come around today?”</p><p>The redhead shot her head up from the table, a thick layer of drool shamelessly sticking a couple of papers to her cheek.</p><p>“ALMOST READY – oh, um…” she locked eyes with her grandmother, who simply blinked with a mild frown on her face. “I mean, uh… What was the question again?”</p><p>“Have you seen Hop today?”</p><p>“Oh. No, actually,” the girl pulled the papers from her face, trying to discreetly wipe away the drool and straighten up her incredibly wrinkled lab coat. “Haven’t seen either of those guys in a while, actually. But that’s how they are – always disappearing and making people worry all the time over nothing.”</p><p>“I understand that, but Violeta called earlier today to say that she was sending Hop over with some things. When I didn’t hear anything get destroyed, I got a bit worried that he hasn’t shown up yet.”</p><p>“He’s probably got himself distracted with pokemon stuff. I’m sure he’ll come around later today if he’s not already racing over with a thousand sorts of excuses.”</p><p>Prof. Magnolia hummed, gently nodding her head.</p><p>“Yes, you’re probably right. It’s hard not to worry about those boys, though, after everything that’s happened. Violeta has been all kinds of twisted up these days, it seems…”</p><p>Sonia sighed, knowing that feeling all too well. She has, unfortunately, gotten far too used to those kinds of feelings. But it’s harder when it’s your children, she supposed.</p><p>“I’ll give her a call when I finish my work for today. Just gotta write, like… three more chapters tonight…”</p><p>The professor hid her intrigued smile as she hummed a simple acknowledgement.</p><p>“Yes, yes, very good. Well, I’m going to take a nap, then. Let me know when Hop gets here – I have a new tea brand to send to Violeta.”</p><p>Sonia nodded, already getting invested in the state of furious typing on her computer. The door gently closed. Outside, the sun was just beginning to set.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The huffing and puffing of two training youths could barely be heard amid the sounds of friendly pokemon chatter. With morning just about finished, the warmth of afternoon allotted for a nice, long break for several of the trainers’ pokemon; they lounged in the shade, keeping in moderately neat groups as they drank their water or conversed with a familiar acquaintance. The only few to be silent among them were Hatterene and Grimmsnarl, who watched their still-moving trainers (Grimmsnarl was more concerned for his trainer, as she seemed to be quite harsh in all her movements as of late; meanwhile, Hatterene simply smiled away, pleased to see her beloved trainer getting knocked down over and over again by a lovely girl half his size but twice his gall – Grimmsnarl figured she was an odd pokemon and left it at that). Morpeko watched up close, eyes focused intently on the large medicine ball being tossed around, letting out an amused squeak every time Bede got the wind knocked out of him from Marnie’s relentless tosses.</p><p>“Ugh – I think you actually broke one of my ribs, this time…” he heaved, trying to ease the slight waver of his knees as he got up.</p><p>Marnie frowned, picking up on his overdramatic lilt. He wasn’t tired <em>enough</em>, she figured, if he could still complain.</p><p>“Callin’ it a day, then?”</p><p>Bede furrowed his brows, trying not to pout his lips so obviously in dismay. He knew she had to be exhausted, and yet she still couldn’t seem to stop moving every millisecond. This punk had endurance – he’d admit that much.</p><p>With a grunt, he threw the ball back towards her, focusing on achieving a sight parabola with his basketball-style toss. Marnie caught it, launching it right back at him with a growling twirl. This time, the boy managed a decent catch. He opened his mouth to gloat, only to barely catch sight of the other trainer rubbing at her wrist. She quickly moved back into catching stance.</p><p>Bede knew he was many things, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. He clicked his tongue.</p><p>“We have done this exercise long enough, I will say,” he sighed, tossing the ball off to the side. “Besides, it would appear as though your Liepard and my dear Sylveon are bickering again.”</p><p>Marnie glanced over her shoulder; sure enough, Liepard was hunched over a food bowl, spine curling as a deep growl from its depths accentuated the mohawk forming along its back. Sylveon made high-pitched yips in response, leaping back and forth, side to side, looking for an angle to dive through. The two trainers shrugged, hurrying over to settle the argument.</p><p>Two steps forward and Bede suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. The dark-type gym leader glanced back, waiting for yet another melodramatic rant to give clarity on his stop. He, however, remained silent, eyes trained forward while his brows knitted together. The girl followed his line of sight, leading her to an equally still Hatterene. Her usual smile was gone – she simply stood, looking at nothing that could be seen despite her long prehensile appendage flicking rather aggressively from behind her.</p><p>It wasn’t long before several other pokemon noticed it, too – whatever <em>it</em> was. Eyes looked up and around, sensing <em>something</em> but no clear idea as to what. Even Morpeko seemed uneasy all of the sudden, holding a half-eaten pecha berry in its tiny little paws.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, Marnie could see Bede slowly sidestepping towards her, an arm of caution outstretched.</p><p>Next thing she knew, both she and the fairy-type gym leader were rolling over each other, having hit the ground hard enough to leave stars in their eyes. A violent cry from both Hatterene and Grimmsnarl was enough to pull them back to reality; Marnie pushed herself up (by using Bede’s face as a push-board, much to his frustration) and she hurriedly tried to figure out the situation.</p><p>Three Vespiquen and a swirling mass of their respective colonies of Combee descended upon the scene, eyes fixed on that of the two gym leaders. Hatterene and Grimmsnarl quickly made their way to their respective trainers, guard up and ready for the first command.</p><p>“Train all you want, kids,” one voice filtered through the chaos, making themselves known. A tall, older man with a harsh glare, “it won’t be enough to help you, now.”</p><p>Bede scoffed.</p><p>“Do not be absurd. Despite my youth, I am <em>far</em> too great of a gym leader to be defeated by a classless buffoon such as yourself. I do not even know who you <em>are</em>.”</p><p>Marnie frowned as she caught sight of the adversary’s attire. Black and gray uniform, rainbow ‘R’ insignia, and a pink band around his right bicep. “He’s Team Rocket –” she hissed, “– a crew of dickish wankers is what they are.”</p><p>Bede drew a dramatic gasp.</p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you – watch your language! I’ll lose braincells at this rate…”</p><p>“Get over it. Grimmsnarl – hit ‘im with a good Darkest Lariat! Scrafty – sneak in an’ whack a Vespiquen with a Thunder Punch!”</p><p>Her pokemon leapt into action. Bede resisted the urge to huff away his annoyance; he called out his own commands to Hatterene and Sylveon. Attacks launched into the air, blasting into a vibrant chaos accentuated by a harsh difference of styles and types. Despite this, the older grunt seemed relatively unfazed, even as several Combee tumbled to the ground in the fighting. One slammed against his shoulder, nudging him slightly. The man couldn’t be bothered to care. He dusted his shoulder.</p><p>“How loathsome it’s come to this,” his voice carried oddly well over the sounds of combat, “but sacrifices must be made for the pursuit of our goals. As much as I dislike this uniform, it serves a purpose – and sends a message.”</p><p>Marnie called out another attack. Her Scrafty was hit with a strong Poison Jab, stumbling over itself in its pain. It only served to stir her sour mood as she opened her mouth to call out Liepard into the mix.</p><p>Her voice lodged in her throat. The dark-type gym leader suddenly stumbled to the ground, slamming her cheek against the hot and dusty turf down below. From somewhere behind, a cruel laugh echoed out.</p><p>Another grunt – an older woman, by the looks of it – her short electric blue bob barely visible from beneath the Team Rainbow Rocket brim. Marnie tried to push herself upright, only to slump back down as the pain in her left wrist seared through her arm. The woman approached her, reaching down to grab the girl as Marnie opted to wild kicking – the youth growled in frustration as she realized that her legs were bound with some kind of netting.</p><p>“Get your sorry fuckin’ hands <em>off ‘a me</em>!”</p><p>The woman sighed, reaching behind her back to grab a small, odd-looking pistol that made Marnie fall <em>deathly</em> silent.</p><p>“Brats like you are the reason why I hate kids,” the grunt deposited in a dart, taking aim.</p><p>A breathless eternity passed through a matter of a millisecond. One minute, the punk was staring down the barrel of a tranquilizer gun – the next, a Hatterene smiling down at her.</p><p>“Um, thanks,” she muttered, letting the pokemon pull her upright. She looked over just in time to see Bede spinning his body back towards the battle, somehow keeping the chaos at bay with his four pokemon <em>and</em> Marnie’s team at his command.</p><p>Keeping steady with the aid of the fairy-type pokemon, Marnie stuffed her hand into her pocket. She quickly pulled out a single dusk ball only to pause as her nervous gaze fell upon its matte design. As much as it wounded her pride, she was far too rattled to think twice about unleashing its inhabitant.</p><p>In a flash of light, a Toxtricity appeared, his neon yellow electric mane already sparking with violent anticipation. He needed no explanation, no commands – he saw the fearful look in the girl’s eyes and nodded. The pokemon spun around to greet the madness with a hearty croak.</p><p>Bede barely had enough time to scream out “<em>DUCK!</em>” before a blast of electric sound launched through the air. The sheer power of the move sent the entire hoard of enemy pokemon back several feet, knocking countless Combee as well as one Vespiquen unconscious. The male grunt frowned a bit. Just <em>a bit</em>.</p><p>“So, <em>this</em> is your Toxtricity, then? Impressive.”</p><p>The pokemon puffed up its throat with a loud, low, <em>‘TOOOOOXX’</em>. It wasted no more time, strumming its chest protrusions vigorously to send out another electrifying Overdrive attack. This time, a few other of the gym leaders’ pokemon were prepared, adding in a couple Dazzling Gleams, Shadow Balls, and one enthusiastic Seed Bomb into the mix.</p><p>Bede and Marnie smiled as another queen tumbled down, the rest of her hoard falling alongside her. Only twenty more Combee and their queen remained on the battlefield.</p><p>Bede smirked. “Team Rocket, was it? No wonder I have never heard of you – you are about as talented as a clump of dirt! Utter <em>fools </em>to think you could overpower the dazzling glory of my beloved fairy-type pokemon!”</p><p>Marnie cleared her throat. The teen boy straightened up a bit.</p><p>“Ah – and, uh, dark-types are powerful, too, I suppose…”</p><p>The male grunt shrugged his shoulders, expression unfaltering. Just as Marnie was about to question him, the earth below them shook violently. While the flying-bug types hovered unaffected, both gym leaders collided into one another as their respective teams struggled to keep their bearings.</p><p>Bede helped keep Marnie upright, both looking over their shoulders just in time to see a much, <em>much </em>larger pokemon taking the scene. It was enough to wipe even the smug look from Toxtricity’s eyes. The female grunt, hand on her lower back from where Hatterene had blasted her aside, let out a dark chuckle.</p><p>“Let’s see how much that poison-electric type likes my Hippowdon!”</p><p>The pokemon – Hippowdon – slammed the ground once more, unleashing a powerful Earthquake attack. Toxtricity tried to avoid it, but quickly fell to the ground from the magnitude.</p><p>“Toxtricity!” the punk trainer shouted, shocking herself with the desperation in her voice. “Ya gotta get back up! You can do this!”</p><p>The pokemon shook its head, clearly disoriented, but managed to gather its senses. On the other side, Bede could hear the buzzing hoard approaching once more. He shouted out commands to all the available pokemon in hopes of Marnie’s Toxtricity being able to manage against that one powerful adversary. Marnie felt her fingers digging into her leggings, watching the Hippowdon beginning to whip up a Sandstorm from its mere presence.</p><p><em>That thing’s gotta be a ground-type,</em> she thought to herself. <em>Toxtricity’s not gonna last much longer against it – ‘n will any of his moves be any good… ‘cept…</em></p><p>“Right,” she nodded to herself. Marnie regained her composure, pointing her hands out towards the ground-type pokemon. “Toxtricity, Boomburst – at <em>max volume</em>!”</p><p>It gave no hesitation. Toxtricity ran its hands across its chest protrusions with all the strength it had, giving the world no warning for the ear-shattering blast of sound energy barreling towards the enemy grunt’s pokemon. The Hippowdon stumbled back a bit, its trainer losing her footing once more as the power of the normal-type attack shook away the Sandstorm before it could take its toll. Toxtricity gave a loud croak in pride.</p><p>Marnie’s shoulder’s slumped.</p><p>Hippowdon was <em>still </em>standing.</p><p>That anxiety quickly faded, though, with a reaffirming grip on the shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll have you all know,” Bede spoke, smug as ever, “that this is cutting quite a bit into our training time for today. I’m going to have to escort you hooligans off the premises – and I’m sure our pokemon would <em>love</em> to assist!”</p><p>The rest of her team, as well as Bede’s team wasted no time in circling the Hippowdon. It was clear that this wasn’t going to end well for the grunts, the female trainer gathered. That much was clear seeing her teammate being approached by Bede’s Gardevoir, readying up a Psychic attack.</p><p>“Damn kids – this isn’t over!”</p><p><em>BAM!!!</em> A flash of white blinded the gym leaders as well as the pokemon – within seconds of eventual clarity, the two Rocket grunts were nowhere to be found.</p><p>Morpeko quickly made her way into Marnie’s arms, chittering anxiously into the punk trainer’s chest. Bede looked over at Marnie. She frowned.</p><p>“What’re ya lookin’ at?”</p><p>“Well? Will you <em>please</em> explain to me what just happened here?”</p><p>She glanced around. “… Uhh… We got <em>ambushed</em>?”</p><p>A vein of irritation popped up momentarily on the teen boy’s forehead. “<em>I’m aware of that</em>! I was <em>more</em> referring to the part where you all seemed <em>quite familiar</em> with each other!”</p><p>“Beats me. I’ve only heard ‘bout Team Rocket from my bro – and trainer school, too, I guess...” Before the toe-headed youth could interject with more redundant commentary, Marnie continued with her thoughts. “But these guys were different. Kinda… They had slightly different uniforms than what I remember.”</p><p>“I never learned about any of that…” muttered Bede under his breath. “The headmaster of Wyndon Prep will never hear the end of this.”</p><p>Toxtricity returned to its trainer’s side; he gave a dark glare towards the fairy-type gym leader, who took a few steps backwards, much to the pokemon’s delight. Once Marnie returned the creature, Bede found his words once more.</p><p>“I suppose we should contact the rest of the league, then. If this ‘<em>Team Rocket</em>’ or whatever is presenting itself as a threat, then we should take immediate action.”</p><p>Marnie kept silent. Her gaze was pointed down at the dusk ball in her hands, but her eyes were unfocused – looking someplace else.</p><p><em>Snap-snap</em>.</p><p>She blinked, glancing up to see the other snapping his fingers by her ear. She swatted him aside in favor of focusing her attention on the tight netting around her ankles. Morpeko rushed to assist, gnawing at the rope.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya… But I’ve got a better idea.”</p><p>“Better idea than telling the <em>league</em> of a <em>league </em>matter?” he scoffed. “Oh, <em>please</em> do enlighten me, <em>Gym Leader</em> Marnie…”</p><p>“If we tell the whole league, then I’m never gonna be able to leave my room for the next twenty years – ‘n <em>that’s</em> bein’ hopeful. I’ll tell the other’s one-by-one – that way, we can solve the problem <em>and</em> Piers’ll never find out.”</p><p>“Seriously? Why don’t you just tell him to give you space? I doubt even your brother is <em>that</em> much of an emotionless idiot.”</p><p>She ignored the insult in favor of the sentiment behind it.</p><p>“… Yeah, no. Might as well try ‘n have tea with the royal family while I’m at it. Just keep y’ gab shut until I say: anythin’ bad happens, I’ll take the blame, yeah?”</p><p>Bede tried to match her intense glare, but he quickly crossed his arms to turn the other cheek. He had never been good at staring contests, certainly not against green-eyed girls that were an inch taller than him.</p><p>“… Whatever. You have better know what you’re doing, Miss Spikemuth Gym Leader. Just know that you owe me quite a bit after this.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes; once her legs were finally free, the gym leader got up to her feet and went to treat her team. They all seemed to hold the same uneasy expressions. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, that terrible dread in her stomach remained.</p><p>Those trainers were there specifically for<em> her</em> – that ground-type pokemon was proof of it. But what would Team Rocket want with her? Marnie quickly shook her head, focusing instead of tending to Scrafty’s scrapes and bruises. She wouldn’t be finding the answers on her own any time soon. She’d have to go to someone who knew more, someone she could trust.</p><p>And, of course, she had the perfect idea who to call.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>aaaaannnnndddd now we're at the point in the story where the plot confuses even ME, so just kinda hold on for the next few chapters while I desperately try to wrangle this bitch of a fic lol</p><p>also RIP these babies</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. These People Have Some Serious Priority Issues, OML</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Quick Note: Changed the Rating from 'M' to 'E' (considering previous chapters lol).</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You were busy dealing with a rather persistent migraine that morning.</p><p>It just happened that said migraine was just a little over six feet tall, had wavy purple hair, and had just been caught with his hand stuffed down that box of ginger snaps you literally <em>just </em>bought.</p><p>At least that Deerling-in-headlights expression he gave you was entertaining.</p><p>“You said ‘make yourself comfortable.’”</p><p>“Well, I was thinking more of, like, ‘feel free to relax on the couch’ or whatever. Not ‘eat my fucking Ginger Snaps.’”</p><p>“That wasn’t clear.”</p><p>“Get out of my Ginger Snaps.”</p><p> Rolling his eyes, the ex-champion obeyed (albeit you did catch a few casualties trapped in his hands as he returned the box to your pantry). He maneuvered around you, disappearing down the hall before you could yell anymore. Unfortunately for him, this was <em>your </em>apartment, so you were free to throw any and all tantrums as much as you fucking pleased.</p><p>You quickly cornered him in the living room; his irritated glare hardly seemed so scary, now, especially with him seemingly keeping the couch between the two of you.</p><p>“Since you can’t be trusted, we’re gonna have to set up some ground rules here. First, touch my Ginger Snaps again – or any of the snacks on the middle cabinet, for that matter – and I will murder you.”</p><p>“Bit aggressive,” he muttered.</p><p>“Hush – Second, don’t snoop around my things. Last thing I need is you breaking my stuff thinking you’ll find buried treasure or whatever.”</p><p>He shrugged. “Sounds like something someone would only say if they had something to hide.”</p><p> “And? I’m literally saving your ass from probably an eternity in jail and debt right now, so deal with it. And lastly,” you exhaled, realizing the shitstorm this would no doubt rain upon you, “you stay in the living room, I stay in my bedroom – less arguing, more zen, overall better quality of life.”</p><p>“What – you didn’t appreciate my company last night?”</p><p>You shot him a nasty death glare. Oddly enough, you were really starting to resonate with how Piers acts around Raihan right about now. Though this certainly was <em>much different</em> circumstances, as far as you were aware.</p><p>“… Anyway, follow those rules and I won’t kick you to the curb for the region to deal with you. I think all that’s pretty easy to follow.”</p><p>The man had the gall to flick up an eyebrow at you. Rather than fall into <em>that </em>game, you simply rolled your eyes and marched out of the room. Not bothering to see if he was following behind, you pulled the door to your bedroom snug behind you, going as far as to lock it just for good measure. Hopefully he wasn’t too sneaky and didn’t know how to jimmy the lock, but that was a problem for Future You to worry about. Vaporeon was eager to greet you as you approached your bed, his squeaky little yips and purrs easing the tension in your chest.</p><p>Yeah, this really wasn’t your greatest decision, but what choice did you really have? As much as you hated to admit it, Leon really was your guys’ greatest asset in taking down Rose once and for all. It just so happened that Leon also made your brain melt into a puddle of adrenaline and bad decisions whenever he so much as looked at you with those golden eyes and that glare and</p><p>You slapped your face, earning a concerned nudge from the water-type pokemon. As Vaporeon made his way onto your lap once you sat down at the edge of the bed, you tried to regain your composure.</p><p>
  <em>Once this is finally all said and done, he’ll be gone, and then things will be fine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Things will be fine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Things will be… fine.</em>
</p><p>An odd ring to that word, all of the sudden. <em>Fine</em>. <em>Just… fine</em>. Mediocre. Average. The bare minimum.</p><p> It pulled a bitter snicker from your lips.</p><p>Has everything really skewed your senses this badly? So bad that you can hardly find an appreciation for what you <em>do</em> have, instead reminding you relentlessly of everything you <em>could have</em>, even when you know it will bring you nothing but pain. But then again, so is the price of any pleasure. Love, comfort, aspiration, success – it all becomes a cruel accent piece for suffering. So why not suffer all the while?</p><p>… Or maybe you just really needed to take another nap.</p><p>You were just about to get up when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket. Despite not recognizing the number, you answered, surprised to hear a rather timid voice on the other end of the line.</p><p>“Marnie? What’s up – is everything okay?”</p><p>“Yeah – um, well, uh… Would it be possible if you could make it over to Ballonlea sometime today? I wanna talk ‘bout somethin’…”</p><p>“Sure thing – I can get there in, uh… thirty minutes, give or take. You sure everything’s okay? You sound a bit… shaky.”</p><p>“Uh-huh. I, uh, I think, anyway…” She must have realized that her answer wasn’t any more reassuring than before, so she quickly added: “I mean, yeah, everything’s good. Just, y’know, wanna ask you some things while I’m free for the weekend. And…” she trailed off briefly. “… don’t tell my brother that you’re comin’ over, please.”</p><p>You blinked, processing the request. You thought to inquire further – or even tell her that you were on your way only to inform Piers in some discrete manner of the girl’s strange behavior – but words exchanged in your introductory conversation filled you mind. So, you opted for compliance.</p><p>“Alright, I won’t tell anyone. Just hang tight for a bit ‘til I get over there, okay?”</p><p>“’kay. I’ll be at the Ballonlea Stadium.”</p><p>With that, she hung up, leaving you with a strange welt of anxiety curling around in your stomach. Something was definitely off – you just hoped that it wasn’t the obvious answer to blame, here.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>You’d never been to Ballonlea, but it was definitely on the list of places you’d always wanted to visit when you first started your training here in Galar. It’s dreamy cottage-core vibes, it’s curious canopy of ever-present trees that were said to be thousands of years old, the amazing smells of famed baked goods and sweet beverages that were said to be the best in the region – everything about this cute little town made you all warm and fuzzy inside just to think of. But now that you were actually <em>there</em>, beneath that canopy that sucked away every bit of natural light, leaving on the light of ominous mushrooms that pulsated and twitched every so often when you weren’t looking directly at them, the place was… a bit creepy. Places like these are always said to be bursting with fairy-types, and that puzzled you more than anything – why were those cute and charming pokemon in such spooky places? You shrugged. Probably means you should do some more research on fairy-types.</p><p>Ignoring the curious gazes of various townsfolk, you hurried up to the front doors of the Ballonlea Gym. Peering through the doors stood a Hatterene, its smile seeming a bit off-putting (though that might have been simply because you were already feeling a bit off today) as it opened the doors the greet you.</p><p>“Oh, uh, hello there,” you smiled. The pokemon gave a curtsy and began making its way down deeper into the gym. You kept its painfully slow pace, taking the time instead to look around the building. It seemed a bit more ornate that your gym, but not nearly as expansive or modern as the Wyndon Stadium. Nearly every wall was either pink or white, everything else being in similarly pastel themes; elegant portraits of famed performers and their fairy-type pokemon dressed the walls, where every so often you’d see some old-looking photos of Opal back in her prime. A few fancy sculptures stood behind dark purple ropes, among other gifts from various benefactors and supporters of the Ballonlea Gym. A lingering, distant scent of lavender and roses made the place feel even less bound by reality.</p><p>You and Hatterene eventually made it down the tunnel towards the field, which seemed to be set just beneath the eye of the canopy; natural sunlight filled the stadium, hitting you even harder with that surreal sensation that seemed trademark to this curious town. There, you could see Marnie and her Morpeko making their way towards you, a boy following close behind.</p><p>Oh yeah – you forgot that Opal wasn’t in charge of this gym anymore. That kid was her new successor, the same annoying kid who got kicked out of the challenge this year. You didn’t dwell on that too long, though, since there were more important things to deal with.</p><p>“Everything alright here?” you asked, giving a quick look-over of the field. Everything looked fine, but you didn’t miss how exhausted everyone looked. Both Bede and Marnie’s uniforms were dirty and a bit disheveled (though Bede looked like he tried to clean himself up a bit), and Marnie had a wrap around her left wrist. “Looks like you’ve seen some trouble.”</p><p>“<em>Some</em> trouble?” the boy scoffed. Before he could continue, Marnie cut in.</p><p>“You didn’t tell my bro, did ya?”</p><p>You shook your head. “No, I came straight here.”</p><p>She gave a small sigh of relief; Bede shuffled off to the side, crossing his arms as he huffed silently to himself.</p><p>“’Kay, good. We, um… There were these trainers – they came outta nowhere and attacked us. They were wearing Team Rocket uniforms.”</p><p>Your gut drops, brows quickly knitting together in a state of shock. That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but then again, it wasn’t any better.</p><p>“Team Rocket? But… didn’t they disband years ago? How’re they just wandering around here in plain sight like that?”</p><p>“Beats me. But I’m sure of it – they looked a bit different, but those were definitely Rocket grunts who attacked us.”</p><p>Bede clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Marnie is missing a very important detail in her account. They seemed primarily focused on capturing <em>her,</em> in particular.”</p><p>Now you were confused. What did Team Rocket want with Marnie? There were obviously pieces to this narrative that were missing, but you didn’t want to make any decisions just yet. Not while there were so many dots that still needed connecting.</p><p>“Alright, alright – so, Team Rocket showed up and ambushed you guys, and tried to take Marnie. Can you tell me anything as to why?”</p><p>Bede seemed ready to open his mouth, but quickly shut it, seeming to rethink his words a bit (which was probably for the best). Marnie shook her head. The slightest of trembles rang through her legs despite her cool demeanor.</p><p>“Whatever they wanted, whoever they really are, they <em>know</em> who I am. They knew about my Toxtricity.” Her hand hovered over a discreet pocket in her leggings. “I’ve never had to call him out for help before, ‘n no-one but Piers ‘n Raihan know I even have ‘m. Well, guess now you ‘n Bede know, now…”</p><p>You wanted to inquire more about that, but the girl suddenly looked remarkably pale, teetering slightly to the side. With Marnie looking damn near sick to her stomach, you gently guided the group back towards the shade. Morpeko nervously munched at a berry, constantly switching her gaze between her trainer, you, Bede, and the <em>still</em> eerily smiling Hatterene, who’s appendage seemed to flick back and forth with restrained irritation. You happened to notice that Bede moved to the other side of the dark-type trainer’s shoulder, almost as if to act as a barrier between her and Hatterene.</p><p>You tried to give a gentle smile. “Right, so I don’t know how much I can help with this. If people are after you, Marnie, then we really gotta tell –”</p><p>“No, no, no!” she cried out. The teenage girl quickly pulled back, gathering her cool demeanor once again with a deep breath. “I-I mean… It’s… complicated. Is there anything you can tell me that’ll help me figure things out? Did anything like this ever happen in your region?”</p><p>Ah. There it is. Your stomach did flips at the depths of your core, the palms of your opening and closing palms already beginning to clam up; nevertheless, now wasn’t the time for a panic attack. You’d deal with the crying fit later tonight – for now, you crossed your arms and gathered your words.</p><p>“Um… Well, I mean… Sort of. It wasn’t Team Rocket, though, so I can’t really say much about their tactics or ideals. When I did my challenge, we had these two old gangs of trainers fixated on changing the environment of the whole world, and…” Deep, <em>deep</em> breath. “… Well, uh, long story short, they disbanded two years later. But as far as I know, they weren’t the type to kidnap people. They just, y’know, caused trouble and chaos in other ways, especially when trying to capture incredibly rare or even Legendary pokemon they wanted. If I had to guess, they did this to try and get their hands on something you’ve got, or something you can get.”</p><p>“Uhg!” Marnie suddenly threw her hands up to her face. “This doesn’t make any sense! I’ve got nothin’ like that! They looked ready to beat <em>down</em> my Toxtricity rather than take ‘m, ‘specially with that huge ground-type beast that lady had.”</p><p><em>Ground-type</em>? You paused to think. <em>Team Rocket was Kanto-based, right? I don’t think they have any giant ground-type pokemon, so why…</em></p><p>“Say – you guys wouldn’t happen to know what pokemon they were using, do you?”</p><p>Marnie blinked up at you. She quickly passed a glance to Bede, who seemed less confused at your sudden question.</p><p>“Well, uh,” Marnie continued when the boy remained silent, “the guy had a whole swarm of Combee and Vespiquen. And the girl had that ground-type... somethin’ like… Hippon, or whatever.”</p><p>“Hippowdon,” Bede finished.</p><p>“Hippowdon, yeah, that thing,” Marnie nodded.</p><p><em>Ding</em>. The plot has thickened.</p><p>“Those aren’t Team Rocket’s signature teams,” you frowned, “not to mention that those pokemon aren’t native to Kanto, as far as I know. So, unless Team Rocket’s rebranded, I’ve got no clue who the hell these guys are.”</p><p>Marnie huffed, turning to the side. “<em>Shite</em>. There goes my only lead at tryin’ to stop these guys. At this rate, Piers’ll find out ‘n I’ll be stuck in Spikemuth <em>forever</em>.”</p><p>You saw Bede groan.</p><p>“This again? How many times do I have to say this: if your brother were half as understanding as he is deplorable, then he would understand that you need space! All your moping and whining will certainly do nothing for the situation – other than give me a migraine…”</p><p>You opened your mouth to say something, but Marnie cut in.</p><p>“Yeah, like I can jus’ <em>tell</em> ‘m all that. He always overreacts ‘n treats me like a little kid – it took me years to even convince him to let me go on the gym challenge, and he <em>still</em> didn’t let me go alone.”</p><p>“If I were you, I would say that he needs to learn to let things go.”</p><p>This conversation seemed to be getting a bit lost from the original point, but you were so shamefully invested that you didn’t think to remind the children of your presence. So they continued.</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll do that, ‘n then I’ll go get some cheese from the moon. He never lets me go <em>anywhere</em>, do <em>anythin’</em>, without him needin’ to know exactly where ‘n what ‘n with who. Least when he hung out with Raihan all the time, I could sneak out ‘n catch a movie ‘r somethin’.”</p><p>You flicked up an eyebrow. You thought that Piers didn’t leave home much before this – is there something more to that narrative?</p><p>Wait – now’s not the time for that.</p><p>“A-anyway,” you clear your throat, “don’t worry, Marnie – I’ll help you try and keep this all on the downlow and try and figure some things out so we can get this solved quick and easy. The last thing we want is another catastrophe in the region, but if there’s a way to kick these weirdos out before we have to resort to gathering up reinforcements, then I’ll follow it. Sound fair?”</p><p>Marnie, her cheeks slightly blushed from her prior rant, gave a gentle nod. Bede shrugged his shoulders but hummed his agreement, as well. You figured it was mostly to assuage the punk rather than agreeing to comply to you.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t much longer before you bid the duo farewell. You were meandering your way back down the halls of the Ballonlea stadium, unaccompanied by any odd fairy-type pokemon, simply thinking to yourself.</p><p>
  <em>Team Rocket, huh? Even if we gathered the whole league together, who knows if we’d be able to stop them. They may be the scummiest of scum, but they still managed to take down nearly four regions in twenty years – if it’s just the three of us, there’s no way. Teams like that are only beaten by heroes, which are kinda hard to find.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But you’ve almost done it before. On your own.</em>
</p><p>You pause briefly, only to shake your head and continue forward.</p><p><em>Not really. Even then, it was almost a disaster. It </em>was<em> a disaster</em>.</p><p>
  <em>But… the team I have now… wouldn’t be any match for them.</em>
</p><p>You knew needed to be done – you just really didn’t want to accept it. All this dramatic self-monologuing to produce tension wasn’t really helping, either.</p><p><em>I’ll deal with that nonsense later… I </em>am<em> a bit curious about Piers and Raihan though… I didn’t know they were seemingly that close so</em></p><p>“Of course they are.”</p><p>You spun around, nearly eating shit in your haste; there, at the front doors stood the Fairy Gym Leader (you really didn’t want to know how he magically appeared here when he was just on the field several minutes ago), arms crossed as he glared at you with an annoyed set of magenta eyes. Apparently, you weren’t just thinking all this in your head…</p><p>“Bede –!”</p><p>“Whatever the source of your curiosity may be, spare me of it. I could care less for whatever idiocy goes on within <em>that</em> sector of the Galar Pokemon League. <em>However</em>…” he glanced off to the side, “… if you manage to find a way to get that dark-type miscreant to ease his control complex, then allow me to provide my assistance.” You wanted to smirk, but Bede quickly sent a harsh snarl down your way. “And don’t you <em>dare</em> think of it any other way! I’m just annoyed that he’s always getting in the way of <em>my </em>practice time!”</p><p>Your one eyebrow remained high on your brow. Bede rubbed a hand across his definitely burning cheeks before hurrying onwards. Ah, these kids are fun…</p><p>“A-anyway… While you are on your way out, take this parcel down to the Turffield stadium,” he pulled out a small package, neatly wrapped with brown paper and tied cutely with a simple pink ribbon, offering it to you. “I told Gym Leader Milo that I would bring him some rare flower seeds from Glimwood Tangle. And as it turns out, Gym Leader Nessa is also supposed to be there for an exhibition match later this week.” He caught your eyes once more, the slight tremble of his hands betraying the sharp look in his eyes. “Nessa is quite familiar with Raihan, as I understand, so I am sure that you may hear some valuable information from her if you ask the right questions.”</p><p>With that, he let go of the parcel, its weight settling in your hand as he took a few steps back. The young boy looked off to the side, arms behind his back. For a moment – though you couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a trick of the light – he looked almost… almost like Hop; just an embarrassed, awkward kid, expect that Bede was still swimming in his clothes despite his age.</p><p>“Again, I could care less of any ulterior motives you may have – just don’t forget why I told you all this.”</p><p>Before you could open your mouth, the teenage boy brushed passed you, taking much too long of strides down the hallway to be considered cool. It was… definitely puzzling.</p><p>Again, not sure if all that’s happened is good or bad. But hey, at least you had something to do before you were forced to make a trauma-inducing decision regarding the fate of the region and maybe even the world, yeah?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New plots come and go, and now we're beginning the ascension towards the final major plot of the story! Currently I've got some serious plot revisions to work on (trying to solidify some points as well as shortening/simplifying so I'm not writing for the next 50 years lol), but i'm slugging along. Also, all y'all who say you binged this all in one day, like ARE Y'ALL OKAY??! Wattpad says thsi story reads about 11hrs or so, so like WHAT ARE Y'ALL MADE OF JFHGDFKGD it's awesome, really ^w^ Thank you guys for your continued support!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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